


Never Will I Ever Volume I

by JustAFlick



Series: Never Will I Ever [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAFlick/pseuds/JustAFlick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han Solo keeps making promises to himself that he can't seem to keep.  A sweeping tale of love, family, and fate set in the Star Wars Universe starting in the middle of A New Hope extending on to the end of The Return of the Jedi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Never Get Involved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ErinDarroch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinDarroch/gifts).



> It's been about a year since I first posted this story on another website that shall not be named. Since then I have learned a few things. Big, long stories don't come easy. The Han and Leia community HATES The Force Awakens. And I just can't get these two out of my head.
> 
> I am reposting this story using the fabulous 'series' function on Archive of Our Own. Now, if you don't love The Force Awakens, you can just read the first volume and eschew the second and third. Volume I stands alone and covers the entirety of the original Trilogy.
> 
> In this Volume, I wanted to connect the dots between the Han we meet at the beginning of the Trilogy and the one we're left with at the end of it. There's a reason he is the most popular character pretty much ever - his character arc is a thing of beauty. Even though he is so unique and specific, Han's story mirrors that of so many young men. Also, let's be honest, I wanted to revel in the love story that is Leia and Han from first impressions to full-on commitment.

**Prologue**

I learned pretty early on that the only person you out could promise anything to was yourself. I tried to make promises when I was younger. To my family, to the spacers guild, to the empire. But when it all blew up in my face, I had a choice. I could either keep letting them blow pieces off me until there was nothing left or I could blow them off entirely. I think you know what I chose. And it wasn't a bad life.

I promised myself I would never look back. I didn't. I promised myself the fastest ship in the galaxy. I made her. I promised myself the most beautiful women imaginable and I found them. Sometimes this system would work out better than expected. All I asked for was first mate I didn't want to throw out the air lock, and somehow I ended up with a best friend. Pretty good for a guy who doesn't make promises to people. But then I guess he's a Wookiee.

As I said, it wasn't a bad life. Not at all. I found that if I kept making promises to myself and no one else, I could keep them. I could maintain the delicate balance required for living on the edge. And then I met a couple of dumb kids and everything went to Kest.

* * *

 

**Volume I: Leia**

* * *

 

**Part I - Never Get Involved**

That's the secret. If you stay more than one night, a woman might need you. If you share more than one meal with someone, they might think you're a friend. If you park it planet-side too long, you'll find you don't want to leave.

Han repeated these long-known truths to himself as he stared off into the eternal night in front of him. The Princess had flounced off leaving him with a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_"I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anybody."_

Her words hung in the air, reverberating somewhere in his sternum. Damn right he cared about something. Himself. He wasn't stupid enough to get caught up in a doomed war against the greatest power in the universe.

_"If money is all you love, then that's what you'll receive."_

"So, what do you think of her, Han?"

The kid was sitting next to him. Han glanced up to see his eager face lit by the glow of the control panel.

"I'm tryin' not to, kid."

Luke turned away, his mind obviously on other, more alluring, things. "Good."

He could see the infatuation laid out like a star map across the kid's face. He would have to learn a better sabaac mask if he was ever gonna make it out there. Han felt a sudden brotherly urge to teach him a thing or two. And a slight itch that pushed him over the edge.

"Still, she's got a lot of spirit," he drawled. The young woman came to his mind's eye, growling at him from across the detention wing, _"Well, somebody has to save our skins. Into the garbage chute, flyboy!"_

He smirked, truly amused by the fiery spirit of the diminutive royal.

"I don't know whaddya think? You think a princess and a guy like me..."

"No." The kid cut him off with finality, and Han glanced over to see the shields were finally up on his face. He felt a surge of affection for the boy, almost wishing him luck in his newfound quest for the Princess.

Almost.

* * *

 

Han couldn't help feeling impressed as he gazed at the operation outside the transparisteel of the cockpit. They swarmed like fire ants, rebels of every shape and size from every corner of the universe. He hadn't know there were so many. They were still doomed, but he couldn't help admiring the effort. He'd probably seen more of the dreaded star fleet than any pilot in the galaxy. His life was a constant game of cat and mouse with the Empire. Not many things scared him, but the full power of that fleet did.

"You coming?"

Luke was standing at the entrance of the cockpit, clutching the few belongings he had in the world.

"Yeah, I need to fuel up and collect that reward."

Han laid it out so that neither of them could get confused. He'd get the Falcon in order, find a decent meal for himself, and then fly off with that money as soon as it was in his hands.

The kid gave him a crooked smile and a placating nod.

"Sure, Han. Well, Princess Leia is pacing by the hatchway. She's real eager to..."

"Go get killed with the rest of them?" Han's voice sounded bitter, but he threw the kid a sidelong smirk. "Who am I to stand in her way?" He rose from the captain's chair and rolled his shoulders releasing some of the tension. The kid was already down the hall, no doubt ready to trail after the Princess wherever she went.

"Chewie!" The Wookiee was in the galley, already taking the opportunity to fill his ever insistent stomach. "Stop eating our rations. The least these rebels can do is feed us before we leave." The Wookiee looked ready to argue and then shrugged his shoulders before popping the last gigantic piece of nerf jerky in his mouth.

Han adjusted his gun belt, checking the holster just in case, before rounding the corner to where Luke and the Princess stood by the hatchway. Luke wasn't wrong: she looked more than eager. Energy waves were practically rolling off her like heat off an overtaxed engine.

"Well, Captain, you've certainly kept us waiting long enough. Do you intend to hold me as a hostage until you get the proper sum?"

Han smirked at her. "I have a feeling those rebels are as eager to get you off their hands as I am, your worship. They'd probably pay me to keep that door closed."

"Very funny," she snapped.

"You're right," he said as he hit the code to release the hatchway, "you couldn't pay me enough to do that."

The hatchway lowered with a whoosh. The princess didn't seem to notice as she continued to glare at him.

"Leia!" The overjoyed sound of a male voice immediately dispelled the tension and disproved Han's ridiculous assertion. Someone was happy to see her. The princess turned abruptly and saw whoever had called out to her. A smile of such joy and relief spread over her face that she was completely transformed. Han had seen quite a few sides of the Princess during their intense and narrow escape from the Death Star, but he hadn't seen this. Her icy exterior melted away, and the girl beneath ran down the ramp leaving him feeling oddly bereft.

He followed her with his eyes as she threw herself into the waiting arms of an older man. Something unpleasant slithered through Han's center as he watched their tight hug.

"We thought you were gone! It wasn't until the signal came through that we had any reason to hope. Oh, gods, Leia, your father would be so happy to know that you are safe."

The man made to pull away, but Leia gripped him harder for another moment. He lifted a hand to her hair and mumbled something in her ear. Whatever it was seemed to relax her, and she let him slip away as more rebels rushed into her personal space. As she received hugs and handshakes, Han had a chance to really look at the man who had had called her name.

He was older. Much older than Han had thought at first. If he hadn't mentioned Leia's father, Han might have assumed that's who he was. _Hoped that was who he was,_ a voice whispered somewhere in the back of his mind. It took another second for Han to realize the older man was coming toward him.

He glanced over at the kid, not wanting to get swept up in all of this. Luke looked as eager as Han felt reticent.

"Hello!" The man reached a hand toward Han. "I'm General Rieekan."

Han gripped his hand a bit harder than necessary. "Solo. Captain of this ship."

"Yes, we heard you on the commlink. We cannot thank you enough to for rescuing the Princess. It has been a dark hour for the rebellion, but hearing that she is safe has given everyone some small measure of hope."

Han was truly uncomfortable now. He extracted his hand from the man's grip and gestured toward the kid, "This is Luke. Thank him. He's the hero."

General Rieekan's eyes crinkled in slight confusion, but he smiled over at the young man. Luke held out his hand.

"Luke Skywalker," he said proudly. "I'm a student of Ben Kenobi's."

The General's face changed subtly. The kid probably didn't notice, but Han had grown adept at reading people in the ten years he'd been shirking the system.

"Skywalker." The man's voice was pensive and very interested. He seemed on the verge of saying something more, but then decided against it. He shook the young man's hand vigorously instead.

"Please, accept our most sincere thanks for your efforts. You could not be more welcome among us. You must be exhausted."

"And hungry," the kid supplied with a cheeky smile.

"Of course," the General's good humor showed through his own kind smile, "come with me, and we will see that everything is taken care of."

* * *

 

After they separated from the Princess, Luke and Han were hurried to some living quarters where they were allowed to clean up and change into clean clothes if they wanted. Han wasn't into uniforms, so he kept his garb to himself. Afterwards they were seated at a table with Chewie where a rather terse droid served them a generous meal, nothing fancy but more than enough to satiate the kind of appetite one had after a life and death battle.

The Princess was no where to be seen. Han didn't know what he'd thought would happen once they arrived on base, but her disappearance hadn't been part of it. It annoyed him. Immensely. Was she too good to eat with scum like them? Like him? Or was she avoiding him because she knew he'd be demanding the price he was owed for saving her hide?

_Most likely both,_ his darker side muttered.

Well, she couldn't hide from him forever. He'd find her, get that money, and get the Kest out of here before the hammer fell on all their sorry heads. That thought made him feel a bit frantic all the sudden. He pushed out from the table and tossed his napkin on the plate. Luke glanced up at him questioningly.

"I'm gonna go find the princess," Han said in a gruff voice, "She's got a bill to settle."

Before Luke could voice a protest, Han was out into the nondescript corridor. He glanced back and forth having very little idea which way to go. With a grunt of frustration, he turned right and headed toward the sounds of voices coming from down the hall.

"Han!" The kid's voice rebounded down the corridor. "You know I don't really think this is a good time..."

He caught up to Han as they rounded a corner, and both were surprised to see the crowd of rebel fighters filtering into a room down the hall. The two men looked at each other, making the silent decision to check out whatever was going on. As they approached the group, a voice called out behind them.

"Captain Solo, Skywalker, you found your way to the meeting," General Rieekan strode up to meet them. "I was coming to get you, but the service droid told me you'd gone."

"What meeting?" Han asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"Our team has analyzed the data from your Artoo unit," Han almost corrected him but let it slide as he saw Chewie round the corner. They'd be gone soon enough.

"Please," the General gestured for them to go in ahead of him.

Luke bounded in like a baby banta immediately looking like he belonged. He greeted the other pilots, sticking out his hand and chattering happily. Han took in the room as he slinked toward a back corner. He couldn't help the spike in his curiosity. This was the heart of the rebel cause - the last place in the galaxy he ever thought he'd be. But, while he was here, he might as well enjoy the show. Besides, there was a good chance the Princess would be a prime player.

As if summoned by his thoughts, her Worship glided into the room at the last moment. She was conversing with yet another older man. He wondered what she'd been doing for the last hour because she obviously hadn't changed. Had she eaten? He shook his head dislodging the fleeting concern. She paused for a moment searching the room. Her eyes first fell on Luke about to take a seat in the middle of the group. He waved at her and she smiled warmly. Han didn't know why he kept watching her. He didn't care if she sought him out. But as her eyes continued to scan, he willed them to land on him.

They finally did, and he felt a strange jolt as they locked on their target. He bowed his head ever so slightly, smirking at the Princess. He didn't receive the same warm smile, but rather a visible intake of breath and a slight, curious frown. The man who was with her touched her arm and gestured for her to move down to the front. She turned just in time for the speaker to step up to the front of the room.

It didn't look good, that was for sure. The data showed a very small chink in the Empire's armor. A thermal vent that was vulnerable to attack. But, the chances of any of these green pilots hitting a mark like that was one in a million. And they knew it too if the nervous swell of voices had anything to say about it. He glanced over at the Princess. So, that's where she'd been: coaxing this information out of the little droid. She glanced over at him and he quickly diverted his eyes.

He had the stupidest idea. And, the more he tried to will it away, the stupider it got.

The meeting disbanded as the leader said something rallying about the Force. Not these nimrods too. No wonder the rebels were running headlong into a suicide mission. They believed some ancient magic would swoop in and save the day. Not likely.

He kept his eyes on the Princess, now for a very clear reason. She was the one who could get him his money. She seemed to have resigned herself to this, waiting for him by the door.

"For a moment, I thought you might actually be planning to help," she said cooly.

Han frowned at her, "How do you know I'm not?"

_Where did that come from?_

She gazed at him for a moment too long. "I can see the credit signs in your eyes."

He let a out little laugh. "Well, Princess, I guess you really are a politician."

She beckoned for him to follow and led the way out into the corridor. Chewie would be waiting for him back at the Falcon. He let his eyes rest on the very female form in front of him as she made her way through the hall. Though her robes were not what he'd choose, they did lend a certain appeal to the wearer. They swayed and danced, not completely opaque, giving glimpse to the curve of a hip, the shape of a calf.

_Stop it,_ he told himself. _If you're gonna do what I think you're gonna do, you better stop looking at her like that._

She turned down another smaller hallway and arrived at a door. Punching in the code, she let it slide open. It was obviously a safe of some kind. Han found himself a little surprised. He didn't really think it would be this easy. Particularly since he knew that rebellions cost money. But, it looked like the Princess really was going to pay him what he'd asked.

_Demanded is more like it._

"Your reward is there, Captain. After we got the information from Artoo, it was my first order of business."

She pointed to a modest pile of armored boxes. From experience, Han knew they contained more credits than he'd seen in a good long while. Now that he had what he came for and without any sort of funny business, he couldn't help but feel a bit abashed for his gruffness.

"Well, Princess, I gotta say, I'm impressed."

She stiffened at this.

"Organas always pay their debts."

She spat out the last word like it was poison.

"Then I guess you're an Organa."

She paused then looked slightly pained.

"The last of them." Her words came out much quieter and softer than any before.

He wanted to say nothing. He wanted to take his money and go. Instead, he found himself one step closer.

"Then let's keep it that way, Princess."

Her eyebrows knit together as she looked at him questioningly.

"Look, you're young. No matter how high and mighty you are, you can't have seen as much as I have. This ain't gonna work."

He gestured widely encompassing the whole base and the whole sad effort.

"That weapon is gonna train its sights on this moon. And then that lucky break that you got," they both knew the one he was referring to, "is gonna be for nothing."

She looked like she was about to argue, but he held up a hand.

"I'll take you away from here."

She couldn't have looked more surprised if he'd kissed her.

"I'm sure you got some family somewhere. I know you royals are famous for all that intermarrying. I'll take you to wherever you want to go. Just give Chewie and me a chance to load up…"

"Captain Solo. That's quite enough," her royal coolness was back. "I'll admit, I had some hopes that you would stay. We could certainly use a pilot like you. But, now that I know how you really feel about our efforts, I think it's best you take your leave."

He stared at her. Why did he think she'd have chosen any different? She'd been pretty clear about her feelings towards him from the first word. With more effort than made any sort of sense, he nodded at her and turned toward the beautiful boxes of credit.

_These babies never disappoint._

Her voice was so quiet, he almost missed it amid the clamor of voices and machines reverberating through the hallways.

"Thank you, Captain."

* * *

 

By the time he'd processed this and turned around, she was gone. The only remnant of her a faint scent of femininity and a vague feeing of emptiness.

Once again, he was staring into the night. The Falcon had left just before the official deployment. They broke through the atmosphere like a knife through blue butter and hurtled away from the little moon. Han couldn't help the feeling of immense relief as he flew from the doomed rebel base. But, the feeling was fleeting as the faces of his new…acquaintances swam before him.

_They'd be dead soon._ The thought was chilling and final.

He'd gone through the plans in his head over and over, like a tongue probing at a sore tooth. There was no way that little band of fighters was going to survive the sheer numbers and resources of the Empire. This was their prize weapon, the center of their efforts. They wouldn't leave it unprotected.

So first it would be Luke. Maybe he'd go down in a blaze of fire. Maybe it would be a simple, well-placed blaster bolt. Why hadn't the kid taken him up on his offer? He knew the Princess was a long shot, but he really thought the kid was just looking for some adventure. He could easily have gotten that bounding around the universe on a smuggler's freighter.

But Han had been off the mark again. The kid really was married to the idea of being a hero. Even if it killed him. And after he was gone, how long would it be until the Princess was too? He looked at the chrono on the dash. Precious seconds flicked by as he glided away from the planet, the moon, and that horrible star.

_Damn it all to Kest._

"Chewie! Turn around."

The Wookiee looked at him disbelievingly.

[What are we doing?] he bleated. Though Han had a good idea he already knew.

There was a split second in which he could change his mind, in which he could keep cruising forward into the anonymous unknown. But this new kind of gravity was just too strong. With a sigh he cut a look to his partner who was already setting their new course.

"We're getting involved."


	2. Part II: Never Fall In Love (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 

**Part II - Never Fall In Love**

It was problematic when he used her name. Leia. It lit him up inside like all his internal circuits were suddenly connected. He didn't like it.

What Han liked was feeling in control, especially when it came to his internal world. Yeah, sure, things could go cockeyed out there. Civil wars could start, battle stations could obliterate planets, perfectly good lives could be upended and invaded. But in here, his head and his damn fool heart, he should always be the captain. And the captain was always in control.

But when he said her name, it didn't feel that way. Suddenly he was the subordinate, waiting for her command. So he came up with alternatives. Your worship. Your Hignessness. Sweetheart. Sister. And there was always the good old reliable standby: Princess.

It annoyed her, he knew. But he could deal better with a Leia who was on guard and on her toes. He could almost pretend she was any other woman then. He'd bait her and flirt with her. He'd enjoy her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. That was all in the realm of what he'd call normal. What he'd call safe.

It was those moments that slipped in when his shields weren't up. When the chips were down and they had a real situation on their hands. That was one of the reasons he didn't like going on missions with her. When she was safely at the base and he was flying in and out, it was easy to keep things light and fun. _She might say aggravating and maddening._ But, when they were thrown together by High Command, things got...tricky.

Han sighed as he waited in the cockpit for the workers to finish loading on the necessaries for this latest situation. The Princess was expected for negotiation on Ord Mantell in a couple days. Han had argued vehemently against this. First with her, then with High Command, then with Luke, then with her again. None of them knew what they were talking about.

Leia was meeting with a member of the Black Sun, a criminal syndicate which famously had control over the mountainous, dangerous planet of Ord Mantell. Supposedly, this contact wanted to help the rebels by diverting some of the Sun's black market weapons to the Alliance. It was certainly hard enough to keep their armory stocked since the Empire made it a hobby to snatch up every weapons manufacturer in the known Galaxy. However, Han knew criminals. He was one. I used to be, he thought sardonically. And criminals couldn't be trusted.

But she was stubborn. Oh so stubborn. And if it didn't constantly put her in danger, Han would appreciate that quality. He liked a woman who knew her own mind. He liked Leia. _Too much,_ his mind hissed. So, when it became clear that she was not going to be swayed and had the full support of the idiots around her, Han gave in and demanded he go with her.

This set off another round of arguments, but at least Luke and High Command agreed with him on this. And so, here he was smack dab in the exact situation he was constantly trying to avoid.

He could hear the crunch of boots and the bang of boxes as the workers loaded supplies for every possible situation. The part of Ord Mantell they were going to was not the most civilized sector of the planet. They would land in one of the more well known cities and then trek into the mountains to meet their contact. The way The Black Sun worked made it impossible for the Falcon to land closer to where they would find their contact.

This was another part of the mission that irked the veteran spacer. He was at his best when he was in his ship, preferably in mid-flight. The small group would be required to leave the Falcon for days at a time if they had any hope of finding this contact. He still wasn't sure of the best way to handle this. Either Chewie would have to stay with the ship or they would have to find some way of stashing her safely away from the greedy eyes and blasters of the backwater planet.

He hated going into a mission blind like this, but there wasn't really a choice. They didn't know anyone else on the ground and the one contact they had was in no position to arrange anything beyond giving them the a route to follow. They wouldn't be going all the way into the heart of the Sun's territory, but just to the edge where they would be able to safely engage with the renegade Sun member away from curious parties on either side.

He cracked his knuckles, looking down at his hands with a measuring gaze. No, he wasn't the perfect person to be going on this mission. But there was one thing he was sure of. No one on this base other than Luke Skywalker had more of a stake in keeping Princess Leia Organa safe. And because Luke was a Rogue Squadron leader and didn't know Ord Mantell from his own ass, Han was the obvious choice.

He did know the Ord. A bit. Before he'd hooked up with Jabba, right after he'd broken from the spacers guild, he'd stopped on the infamous planet. It was an obvious place to look for the kind of work he was seeking. But, he hadn't really ventured beyond the famous strip of cities that housed the casinos and the whorehouses and the black marketplaces. Even though he had some familiarity, it was the last place he would willingly take Leia. She would stand out like a pure white beacon among the various levels of lowlife that inhabited the cities. No matter how she tried to blend in, there was no denying the kind of woman she was.

"Captain," that kind of woman was now leaning against the cockpit entrance, "we're ready."

 _So it's back to Captain,_ he thought. _She must really be mad._

"Alright, Princess. Is the space cadet on board?"

He glanced back in time to see her roll her eyes.

"Yes, Lieutenant Fitch is on the acceleration couch."

For a moment, the hostility eased enough for the two to share a look of resignation.

Both of them had protested having another agent on the mission. Han insisted that Chewie was more than enough back up for either of them. But, High Command was unyielding. They'd need back up, especially if one of the members of the crew (and it damn well wouldn't be Lieutenant Fitch!) was going to have to stay with the Falcon. Both Leia and Han had vied for Luke, but he was tied up until Gods-knew-when running endless drills and petty missions with his Squadron.

"Well, then we'd better get going."

The Princess hesitated at the door and he could read her pause like he could read everything else about her.

"You're welcome to sit up here with me and Chewie. Unless you prefer the stimulating conversation of Lieutenant Fitch."

Leia's mouth quirked just a bit at this.

"I think I would be more useful manning the nav computer," she said with prim practicality. He let this statement slide. Both of them knew the job was incredibly simple and could easily be done by him or Chewie. "Besides, we should really go over the details again."

Han shook his head at this but let out an affectionate chuckle.

"Whatever you say, your Highnessness."

They'd gone over what little information they had over and over in the last couple of planet turns. But, he wasn't about to argue. No matter how much he tried to push himself in the other direction, he always preferred the Princess's company.

Chewie arrived behind her having secured the ship for take off. If there was any doubt about her decision, it was scuttled as she made space for the big Wookiee. She settled in the chair behind Han, and he turned back to the controls willing the mild tingles of pleasure to dissipate. It was ridiculous. She was just sitting there, looking straight ahead into the hangar bay. Yet it felt like every hair on his body stood on end just knowing that she was near.

He cleared his throat and his mind.

"Chewie, let's get this show on the road."

* * *

 

The trip was simple enough. It only took a few hours once the coordinates were set. The Princess had stayed true to her word, painstakingly repeating every piece of intel they had. Han half listened while he ran through every possible scenario they could face in the next few days. The important thing was to brush up against the fewest number of Mantellians possible. If he had his way, they wouldn't encounter a single soul other than the contact that Leia already knew and trusted.

Trusted was a strong word. She even admitted this. She felt he was a fair gamble, that the Alliance's desperate arms situation made the risk worth taking. He hated when she talked like this. It was almost as if she were reducing her life (and his) into numbers on a spreadsheet. The possible cost for balancing the budget. He knew it was a tactic, a way to distance herself from the terrifying reality of her life. But, it still disturbed him when that icy calm descended upon the warm woman he'd come to know in the last two and a half years.

Leia was so much more than numbers. Her value couldn't be calculated as simply as she claimed. Not just for him and Luke, but for the whole rebellion. Her bravery in the face of the Empire and her miraculous survival in the face of genocide had made her a sort of good luck symbol for the troops. Of course, it doesn't hurt that she happens to be the prettiest woman within 10 parsecs.

When the young men looked at her, they had a reason to fight. She represented everything good, true, and beautiful in the universe.

_Gods, Solo, why don't you just quit your day job and write holo-operas for a living?_

This was just further proof of the constant challenge he was up against when he was near Leia. She shook him up and turned him into someone he didn't recognize. An optimist. A person with ideals. A man with hopes. And hopes were not a good thing to have when your life was a constant roll of the dice.

_Speaking of…_

He stared at the the scene just beyond the starport. Lights of every brightness and color littered the horizon, shining up onto the pink clouds above. The Ord was known for two things: the pink cloud the hugged the planet like a blanket and the seedy nightlife centered in its gigantic casinos. _Like a wolf in sheep's clothing,_ he thought wryly.

Well, if he had anything to say about it Leia wouldn't go anywhere near those bright lights. After a quick back and forth with the Ord Mantell City Starport Authority, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to leave the Falcon unguarded. They were slimey and shifty in the worst way, and Han could read their barely concealed intentions a parsec away.

So, as he imagined might happen, the only choice was to have Chewie stay with the ship. Rather than making him a sitting duck, Han decided to have him park the Falcon above the atmosphere and meet them back at the starport in three days time. For the first time, Solo felt some relief to have the Lieutenant along. He'd have most of his focus on Leia, so it felt more than okay to have someone watching his back.

The two of them were in the cargo hold suiting up for the trying journey ahead of them. It wasn't often that the rebels had to trek through difficult terrain. They generally flew in and out of bases and starports just like everyone else in the galaxy. But these cartels were from an old world and worked by old world rules. The very remoteness of their head quarters protected them from most threats to their power.

They would trek into the mountains at daybreak, sleep a night on the road, hike to the rendezvous point and then gods willing back track without any incident.

_That's likely._

The Princess attracted trouble like a magnet. That was part of the reason he wanted to keep her away from any curious eyes. Part of him wished they could trek at night, but he knew that would put them in even more danger from the kinds of predators that they might happen upon, be they animal or sentient.

Well, now that they knew what they were doing, there was no point in him sitting here. He affectionately slapped the arm rests of his captain's chair and sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening to return his ship to him safely. Making a beeline for the galley, he stopped as he spotted the Princess sitting at the holo-chess table.

"I made some caf," she said without preamble.

"Thanks," he lifted a hand to the back of his head, oddly aware of the way his hair must look. He tended to rake his hands through it when stressed, and the idea of their journey was nothing if not stressful.

Her brown eyes flicked up to his hand, "Stressed?"

He frowned. It was okay when he read her, but…

"Tired. Planning on getting some shut eye before we head out. You should too."

She shook her head and took a deep breath.

"I'm too nervous."

_What the—?_

"Nervous? Nervous?! You certainly didn't seem nervous during all the…discussions we had this past week." He couldn't help the hint of resentment that crept into his tone.

She didn't let him bait her. "I'm a diplomat. I know when to show my cards."

"Well, you picked a real good time, Princess. You _should_ be nervous. This is a dangerous place."

"I know…" her voice was quiet, meditative.

"And you wanted to come alone!" he recalled in disbelief.

Her eyes snapped up to his, flashing a bit. "I never had any intention of coming alone. I'm not that stupid."

Something sunk in the vicinity of his chest. "Oh, so you just didn't want to go with me? That it?"

She sighed. "Han…" he relaxed a bit, "I was just angry with you. It's hard enough to get High Command to let me do anything without one of my best…pilots working against me."

His hands were in his hair again. "Leia. Princess," he added as an afterthought, "I ain't ever against you." The honesty of his tone cut the tension like a knife. For a moment, he felt they were in harmony, on the same side. He felt that awful lightness in his heart. "I just don't have the same warm fuzzy feeling toward that death wish of yours that you do."

The momentary relaxation fled from her face. "Death wish? What are you talking about?"

He shook his head, practically growling, and strode into the galley. With more force than necessary he banged through the cupboards in search of sustenance.

She appeared at the door, predictably unwilling to drop it. " _What_ death wish?"

_Don't say it. Let it go. You're in dangerous territory, Solo._

"Ever since that damn Death Star, it's like you been waiting and watching for the right opportunity to off yourself."

She couldn't look more upset if he had slapped her, but his words flowed out too fast.

"You are constantly volunteering for ridiculous missions, you work yourself until you drop, you barely eat." He looked meaningfully at her sunken cheeks, her tiny waist. "You know, I always thought you were some kind of hero when you stayed on that base." They both knew what he was talking about, one of their first moments alone when he had asked her to flee Yavin IV with him. "But, the more I think about it, the more I think you just wanted it all to be over then and there."

Silence filled the space between them. She was breathing hard, and he found that he was as well.

Of course it was that moment that Fitch wandered into the common area.

"How long until we leave, Captain?"

At least he showed some respect.

"About three and a half hours, _Lieutenant_."

He was still staring into the brown orbs before him, not knowing what he was looking for. The moment was obviously broken, for better of for worse.

The Princess closed her eyes briefly before turning away from him.

"I think I will try to sleep after all," she muttered.

Then she quickly made her way across the common area and into the sleeping quarters.

Fitch watched her leave then looked back at Solo expectantly. "Got anything good in there?"

* * *

 

He wasn't wrong when he thought this would be hard. The air burned in his lungs as he trudged up yet another incline, his muscles already starting to protest with only half a day of hiking behind them. When he was at the controls of the Falcon he felt like a god among men. But, put him planet-side on his own two feet, and suddenly he was reminded of how mortal he really was.

The only slightly comforting thought was that the Princess and the Lieutenant weren't much better off than he was. He could hear their huffing and puffing as they came up behind him.

Her High and Mighty had barely spoken to him since they set off. The only positive to this was that she actually had gotten some sleep. He'd checked on her an hour or so after their fight to find her sound asleep on the spare bunk, looking more peaceful than he had seen her in a good while. He had taken advantage of that unguarded moment to allow himself the pleasure of looking at her.

He needed to remind himself what was at stake here. Petty squabbles and peevish arguments were not what they needed. The cards were already stacked against them. Oh, she drove him mad. And made him madder. But, he knew that beneath those aggravations was an ocean of feeling. He wouldn't let himself take the plunge, but he could feel it buoy him up as he gazed at her delicate features. If he was careful and stayed just on the surface of those feelings, he could safely navigate them home.

_Home? What home?_

The base certainly wasn't home. Not just because it was constantly moving from planet to planet, but because he stoutly refused to join the Alliance. He'd gone and gotten himself involved - he was involved up to his ears - but he'd be damn sure he wouldn't get himself attached. There was still the chance, no matter how remote, that he would jet off one day. And as long as he didn't make any promises to a cause or a group or a girl, he could still do that.

Breathing in the fresh mountain air, he reminded himself that he was still free.

After this mission, he could pick up and leave. Just as soon as he figured out a way to lock the Princess in a padded tower on a far away moon nobody knew about.

He smirked at the absurdity of his thoughts and kept trudging.

As soon as night fell, he called halt to their journey. Leia protested, wanting to continue on just a bit further, but he silenced her protests with a glare. Lieutenant Fitch seemed perfectly content to drop his pack, rolling his shoulders with exaggerated relief. The Princess glanced at him and at Han, who had already started unpacking the sleeping tent, and seemed to give in.

They had found a relatively secluded spot not far from a small river. Han saw her look toward the water from the corner of his eye. Would she want to take a swim? The temperature was rapidly dropping, but the day had been hot. He imagined she was as sweaty and dirt-caked as he was.

Unbidden images of Leia skinny dipping surfaced in his mind. He let out a slight groan as his mental picture started doing the backstroke in his mind.

"Are you alright, Captain?"

_Captain again. Gods, she's touchy._

"Just sore, your Worship. After all, I was lugging this thing around all day."

He gestured to the large tent that would house the three of them tonight. It was actually a genius feet of engineering that included inflatable mats and a forcefield to keep any forest dwellers away.

She looked almost apologetic before she remembered her pique.

"Yes, well…"

He shook his head, covering a smile. She'd be forgiving him soon enough.

They heard a splash and both looked up in alarm only to see Fitch happily bobbing up and down in the water.

"What is he doing?" Leia groused. She looked around as if the Emperor himself were about to pop out of the bushes.

"Taking the opportunity to get clean," Han offered. "Don't know when we're gonna be near water again. Your map doesn't show any rivers where we're headed."

She looked back at the water, and he could see the longing written plainly on her face.

"Go on in. I'll build the tent and then take my turn."

She only paused for a moment, looking over at him searchingly, before nodding. Then she shrugged off her light Alliance issue jacket and started undoing her braids. For one glorious moment he thought she would continue to change in front of him, but after her hair was released and brushing her hips, she strode into the forest away from him and Fitch.

_Kest._

Han stared down at the tent in front of him, willing his head to stop swimming. Leave that to the Princess.

He made quick work of the tent once he'd had a moment to cool down. He'd practiced with it once or twice before they'd gone, wanting to be sure about whatever he could. He considered just crawling in and falling asleep, his aching muscles egging him on. But, the water was right there, and he wasn't lying when he said they might not have another opportunity.

With a sigh, he pulled his shirt up over his head and undid his pants, leaving them in a pile by his pack. He left on the boots, deciding to take them off once he was safely to the shore. He probably made quite a holo-pic clad only in his boxer briefs and his Alliance issue terrain boots. But, he didn't think Fitch would mind.

He was ready to call the Lieutenant back in, but he found the man already on the shore sitting on a rock staring out at the river. He looked up as Han approached and nodded cordially.

"I'll head up and give you a chance to clean off," he offered without hesitation. As he made to leave, he paused for a moment before adding, "I believe the Princess is up that way."

He pointed to slight bend in the rock, and Han wondered what exactly he meant by telling him that. Probably just reminding him to keep a proverbial eye on her. _As if I need reminding…_

The water was divine. Han didn't often use or think such words, but there was no other way to describe it. After an interminable hike through rough terrain, the relief of the cool weightlessness was wonderful.

His eyes were closed as he breathed in the still crispness of the Mantellian night when a sudden whoosh of water went up his nose and across his face. He sputtered comically, flailing to attention. Was it a river shark? A rabid pantera? The near miss of a blaster shot?

 _Or a sniggering princess…_ he realized as his vision cleared.

She was floating a few feet from him, a real live smile gracing her moon-drenched features.

"That's for earlier."

He couldn't have been more shocked by her sudden levity, but he was also tremendously pleased. Heat spread through his chest and then further down as he took in her wet form. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders spreading out in a dark halo where it touched the water. He couldn't tell what she was wearing, but could see two thin straps suspended over the swells of her breasts which kissed the water in a way that could only be described as erotic.

He allowed a half smile to grace his face, "Thought it would be a lot worse than that."

"Well," she looked down at the water then up at the moon. Anywhere but him. "I suppose it would have been if you hadn't been somewhat…right."

If he thought he was shocked before, he was wrong. He could count the number of times the Princess had told him he was right on one hand. Possibly on one finger.

"I have been somewhat reckless, very reckless," she corrected herself with the determination he was so fond of, "but, it isn't quite for the reason you said."

She swam a little closer and gripped onto a rock wall rising out of river above them.

"I can't describe what it feels like to be the last of anything, let alone the last of an entire race. I carry with me my own hopes and dreams," she swallowed, "but also the lost hopes and dreams of all the people who would have been my subjects, my comrades…my friends.

"Every time I have the opportunity to further the cause, I take it. Not just for me. For all of them." She sighed, leaning her head tiredly against the wall she clung to. "And sometimes, yes, it feels like it's all too much to bear."

This was one of the most honest moments the two had ever had. And Han didn't know what to say to such authenticity. The last thing he wanted to do was spoil whatever spell had descended on them. For a brief moment, he let the shields fall from his heart and let the words come out unimpeded by sarcasm or self-defense.

"Then let me hold it for a while."

Leia took this in then gave him an odd little smile.

"Okay," she said simply and released herself from the wall. She laid out on her back, as he had been doing moments before. He was struck not by how similar she was to his vision, but how much better she was in reality.

They stayed in the water for a little while longer in a comfortable silence, drifting and diving. He wouldn't have been Han if he didn't take the initiative to pinch her calf and brush her waist when the opportunity arose. But she didn't seem to mind. She laughed huskily and playfully kicked at him. He had to stop himself from escalating their little game. _Small victories._

As if by silent agreement, they made their way towards the shore. The moon was high and tinged pink by the wispy cloud cover. It lent a strange dreamlike quality to the world around them. He pulled on his boots then followed Leia to where she had stashed her kit. Without a word, he bent and picked up her clothes. They made their way back to the camp to find Fitch sitting near a small lantern. They'd all agreed that a fire was an unnecessary risk during their short excursion, so after they'd dried off they helped themselves to some tasteless rations.

The men would sleep on either side of the Princess, an accepted practice when traveling with anyone of high rank. After the day they'd had, no one seemed eager to prolong the after dinner chat. They stashed their supplies inside the tent's entrance and closed up shop for the night.

Han told himself to go to sleep. He willed his tired eyes to shut if only to give his muscles a fighting chance for tomorrow. But she was right there. Her face was turned towards him and, though the near-blackness in the tent obscured her features, it was enough. His eyes could trace the curve of her head, the graceful decline of her neck. Little puffs of her breath wafted across his face.

He was having a hard time getting his shields back up. The version of Leia on display tonight was too much to contend with. When she was that way - when he let her be that way - he was lost. In those moments, there was literally nothing about her that he didn't like. She was the most exquisite creature in the universe. And he'd seen a lot of the universe.

She murmured softly in her sleep and shifted, releasing a hand. It fell off her mat palm up against the floor. He stared at it.

_Don't you dare._

He reached his own hand towards hers only intending to tuck it back onto her mat and into her sleeping sack. But the moment his fingers touched her skin, he knew he was fooling himself. He traced the small hand watching for any signs of life. If anything her breathing grew more steady as he laid his much larger hand atop her smaller. In the two years they'd known each other, he had never had a chance to measure his hand against hers.

Is that what they're calling it these days?

He stopped there, his hand laying flat on top of hers, and gave himself credit for not actually holding it.

With a ragged sigh he rolled himself away and stared up at the top of the tent. There was no way he was getting to sleep any time soon. Resigning himself, he started running through disaster scenarios again, unconsciously breathing in time with the sleeping Princess to his left.

**Continued in Chapter 3**


	3. Part II: Never Fall In Love (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 

Han woke with the feeling of someone's eyes upon him. More than ten years as an outlaw had trained him to be aware of his surroundings. He'd honed his sixth sense into something that resembled the legendary force. He regulated his breathing, preparing himself to reach for his blaster the moment he needed it.

More than ready, he cracked his eyes open, zeroing in on a pale, feminine face a couple feet away. Leia smiled at him, her brown eyes crinkling slightly at the sides filled with a warmth he hadn't seen since before she'd brought up the idea of this mission in the first place. His heart beat slowed down like a ship's engine after planet fall.

He fully expected her to say something or turn away now that he was awake, but she held his gaze. The sounds of the morning - birds chirping, leaves rustling, water passing on its unhurried way - filtered through the thin sides of the tent. Her head was cradled on her hands and she obviously hadn't gathered the courage to leave the warmth of her sleeping sack.

"Hey," she said finally.

His heart started another take off sequence as she continued to look at him expectantly.

"Morning," he grumbled. It was only when he heard the hoarseness in his own voice that he remembered the sleeplessness of the night before. He'd finally nodded off as the pearlescent light of dawn had crept around the corners of the tent.

"I forgot where I was when I woke up," her voice was like warm honey, as smooth as his was coarse, "but then I saw you."

It was a simple statement, but it felt loaded with hidden meaning. Did he somehow calm her down the same way she revved him up?

Finally she broke the eye contact and he swallowed his disappointment. But as she turned towards the top of the tent and raised her arms above her head in a languorous stretch, he wasn't all that sorry. The top half of her body slipped out of the sagging sleep sack and he couldn't decide if her preferred her well-rounded chest wet or dry.

Her movement had the unfortunate effect of waking the other occupant of the tent. Han felt a jolt as he remembered the Lieutenant. There might as well have been only the two of them on the entire planet last night. Fitch obviously didn't feel the need to tarry. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked over at the two of them still horizontal.

A half smile graced his face as he pulled himself out of his sack.

"I'll make some caf."

Han didn't know whether he was grateful or sorry to see the space cadet leave. Now, he was left with a sleep-rumpled Leia looking far too much like he had just ravished her and a raging hard-on that was only concealed by the overstuffed sleep sack around him.

Leia looked at the tent flap as well, and he wondered if she was equally uncomfortable.

"Today's the day," she said evenly.

_So that's where her mind is. Lucky her._

"Yep," he said eloquently. "Today we get to see if our gamble pays out."

She glanced back at him and it was only as he took in her pleased expression that he realized he'd said "our". He considered taking it back, but couldn't possibly scare away that smile.

"It will. I know it will."

Without another word she gathered up her clothes and bounded out of the tent flap. It belatedly occurred to him that he probably should have offered her the tent to change in. However, considering his current situation, that wasn't really an option.

He tried to think of anything to calm himself down. He mentally took apart the hyperdrive in the Falcon. He catalogued the most gruesome wounds he'd suffered in his years as a spacer. But nothing to could banish the molten brown eyes that had greeted him this morning.

With a frustrated breath, he did the only other thing he could think of and gave in to the desire that haunted him day and night.

* * *

 

She was a different woman today. Lighter, happier. The nerves that she'd confessed when they'd first arrived, the heavy exhaustion that usually dogged her steps seemed to have evaporated like the pink mist above the planet in the noon sun.

It was infectious. Both he and the Lieutenant joined her game, talking and teasing. Admiring the stunning vistas as they crested peaks, actually enjoying being outside after so many months in space ships and subterranean compounds.

Of course Han was aware of where they were headed. In a few short hours they would be sharing space with a member of one of the most dangerous gangs in the galaxy. But, here in the sun with Leia, he found he could push it to the back of his mind.

She had dressed a little better than your average hiker today. Of course, this wasn't any place for formal wear, but the Princess insisted on looking professional. A pair of soft leggings clung to her slim, but shapely legs. Over this she wore a jacket that had to have been a holdover from her royal days. It was made of a sumptuous material that shimmered in the bright sunlight, one moment teal another a deep purple that reminded him of the water they'd swam in last night.

She'd somehow managed to create a complex weave of braids and twists that sat on top of her head. He preferred her in simpler hairstyles, but he had to admit this held a certain appeal. Wisps of curls brushed her temples and the back of her neck and it didn't take a large leap to imagine his lips brushing against the same places.

_Get it together, Solo._

He suddenly wondered if the famous generals of history also went to battle with visions of l….ust in their heads. He'd never thought of it before, but that would add a certain fuel to the fire.

"Stop," her voice brought a halt to his inner musings, all business once again.

She was staring down at the holo map in her hands. It was projected off a little handheld device that was programed to self-destruct if separated from it's owner.

She frowned at the device. It was only as he followed her gaze that he realized the dot that symbolized their party and the dot that symbolized their rendezvous were awfully close.

_How did that happen?_

She turned to the men, taking her pack off for the moment. Rubbing her right shoulder, she started to speak.

"We're about to be in range of our contact. As far as I understand, when we step into range, he will seek us out."

Han's mind cleared in an instant. The threat of danger just steps away tended to do that.

"I've been thinking," she continued, "Our contact doesn't know how many of us are here. If we split up now," Han tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand and gave him a reassuring look, "If Han comes with me, you," she turned to the space cadet, "can hang back and cover us."

The men looked at each other, sharing a moment of silent male communication. It was a sound plan.

With gruff nods, they turned back to the Princess. She looked serious, but Han thought he could detect a slight bit of feminine smugness in her expression.

"Alright," she seemed to pass the torch over to Han who took it up with gusto.

"Fitch, let's split up now. Head into the trees, keep your eye on us but stay far enough away to be out of range. If anything separates us, we all have our commlinks. Even Chewie has one."

The commlinks were usually what allowed them to call for pickups on the mission. Han had needed to explain to all involved that if the Falcon tried to pick them up from the mountain location once they were finished, the full fire power of the Black Sun would be trained on the freighter before it even touched the ground. Therefore, the long trek back.

With a formal nod, the Lieutenant started for the trees, but then paused a moment. He turned back to the two of them and said without any sort of irony, "May the force be with you."

Before they could react, he was gone.

Leia turned toward Han, looking up at him. It was only now that he realized they were standing very close. Much closer than personal space would usually allow.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice low and intimate.

He let his trademark bravado take over, offering her a cocky grin.

"Honey, I'm always ready."

* * *

 

The meeting was simple and to the point. The man, swathed in the trademark black of the Sun, had found them minutes after they entered the clearing indicated on the holo-map. He certainly wasn't going to win any points for personality, but he didn't carry the aura of aggression Han usually found in black market traders.

He didn't profess any sort of idealistic goals, but rather hinted at the fact that the Sun would be better off without the Empire calling the shots in the Galaxy. They knew just like everyone else, that when the big power was toppled it would leave a vacuum that would need to be filled. They were just betting on a different replacement than the rebels.

Han could tell Leia wasn't entirely comfortable with this and neither was he. However, it was clear enough that for now, the Sun and the Alliance had the same goal. After that goal was achieved, be it months or decades, they would be on different sides once again.

They established a pick up point, a distant moon far from the Rebel base and Ord Mantell. Every so often, the Sun would "lose" some of its precious cargo on the moon. The contact would notify Leia when it was ready for pickup. Han hated the idea of the line of communication remaining open between them, but they certainly couldn't afford to be jetting off to the other side of the galaxy every other day. It only made sense to make the trip if they knew something was waiting on the other side.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Han could feel the tension ramp up in his body. It was time to go. He said as much, but the contact shook his head saying that the only way to finalize a contract with the Sun was by sharing a meal.

He gestured to a small outcropping of rock towards the edge of the clearing. "Wait there," he said tonelessly, "I will kill a deer, and we will cook it."

Han's eyes were wide as saucers as he looked over to the Princess. There was no way they were waiting for this berk to kill, skin and cook a deer. She decisively shook her head, willing him not to argue. He let out a growl of frustration and then a sigh of resignation.

"Why don't you make it a rabbit? We ain't that hungry," he said the last part slowly and with some menace.

The man stared blankly at him before dissolving into the woods.

When he turned back, Leia was shaking her head at him, but smiling in her secret way. She led him to the small outcropping and gestured for him to sit with her. He settled, taking in the only view he seemed to care about these days. The once politician seemed almost ethereal as the rose gold of the late afternoon sun cast her features in bronze.

"We did it," she said in a tone that bordered on conspiratorial.

He couldn't help the way his lips quirked as he looked at her glowing face.

"We're not done yet, sister. I have a feeling this guy isn't great with seasonings."

She pushed the palm of her hand against his shoulder in a mock shove that left a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake.

"We make a good team," she said earnestly.

He looked at her, disbelieving. "That was all you, Princess. I just stood there."

Her face took on an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. She never looked at him like that. Sometimes the kid, but never him.

"I couldn't have done it without you." He couldn't tell if it was the atmosphere or an honest blush that colored her cheeks. "Knowing you were there, that we were in this together. I was so nervous when we started out, but today was just…easy."

It was only now, in this moment, that Han realized he'd never gotten the shields up again. And it was too late. Her lasers were already through, melting his inner framework to slag.

"I don't want to lose this, Han," she had a steady, searing light in her eyes. They pulled him in despite himself. "I want you to do something. For…" her courage faltered, "for all of us."

"What's that?" His voice was coarse again, and this time not from lack of sleep.

She took a slight hesitant pause then -

"Stay."

It was that simple. She didn't elaborate, yet they both knew exactly what she was talking about. She wanted him to sign on for good. To take whatever dingbat position the council wanted to shove him into and become a real member of the rebel alliance.

If his shields were up he would have deflected her, found some way to joke his way out of it or just given her a flat, heartless no.

But even as he tried to bring his ship about, all hands on deck, his mouth turned against him.

"Sure, Leia."

Two years of fighting it, of swearing he'd never, of using every excuse in the book. It was all undone with two little words.

Her face broke into a beam of pure rapture. Before he knew what was happening, her arms were around him, tight against his neck, and her soft cheek was pressed up against his.

He was overcome and gave into the onslaught of sensation, letting his hands slip up her back and around her small waist. They clung for a few moments that stretched like an eternity on the sun bleached rock. He suddenly wondered why he had fought this, why he had ever wanted to do anything but melt in her presence.

She was pulling away and he gripped her tighter. But then he realized that she'd moved only far enough to be looking at him, her mouth mere centims away. It was here, the moment they'd both been hoping for and fearing since the day they'd met. Had it been that long? Looking at her, he knew it had. As the magnetic pull stretched between them and the inevitability closed in he realized in a burst of intuition that he was totally and completely in —-

A sound like crashing starships burst through the silence and with a startled cry, Leia fell against his chest. For half a flick he was totally stunned. And then he looked over her shoulder and saw a vision from his nightmares. Boba Fett, the greasy fucking bounty hunter eternally in Jabba's employee, was standing in the middle of the clearing.

Before another second passed, Han had Leia behind him and the blaster in his grip. He shot at the bounty hunter with abandon, causing the man to drop and roll away from the hail of fire.

He heard Leia groan behind him and felt her moving.

"Run!" he bellowed.

She did as she was told, a trained soldier in her own right, but then he heard a strangled scream. He turned to find her in the grips of the Sun contact that had just left them. He held a vibroblade against her throat and hollered for Han to cease fire.

For a moment he didn't know what to do. Survival instincts told him to keep shooting, but the terrified look in Leia's eyes took precedence. He put his hands up, blaster still clutched in his right hand.

"Drop your weapon," he heard a mechanized voice say behind him.

He flinched dramatically, but didn't let the blaster slip through his fingers.

"Let her go," he demanded.

Fett rounded the rock and stood next to the Sun member.

"Why would we do that? As long as we have her, you'll do whatever I say."

Han's stomach dropped somewhere beneath the surface of this gods-forsaken planet. He knew this was a bad idea. He fucking knew it all along. He just didn't know that his sorry self would be the one to cock it up.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

"We'll see," Fett sneered, "I had my doubts when they told me you'd come running for her. You never struck me as the sentimental type. But, I figured it was worth a shot. Especially since she was so enthusiastic about this bargain," with a wave of his gloved hand he encompassed the whole mission and Han felt the weight of shame and terror crash over him. This was his fault.

"We figured we'd take her hostage and demand that you come for her. Little did we know, you'd make our job so easy."

Han was about to take a shot at the bastard, damn the consequences, when the black clad man holding Leia suddenly slumped forward, his head on her shoulder. Han and Fett stared at the man in shock. The back of his head was blown off.

Leia screamed, but before the sound had died on her lips, Han was at her side grabbing her hand and running for the woods. The sound of blaster fire echoed through the clearing behind them and stray shots hit the trees as they ducked and wove their way through the forest.

Until that moment, Han had almost forgotten the other member of their party, but he knew without a doubt it was Fitch back there fighting Fett. He wished he could go back and join the fray, but the only thing he could focus on right now was getting his Princess out of harms way.

"Chewie! Chewie! Are you there?"

The commlink was in his hand pressed against his numb, cracking lips.

A loud series of growls sounded from the speaker.

"What?!" He couldn't have heard that right.

[I'm on my way. Fitch already called me. There's another clearing 50 metres to the Northeast.]

Han could see the dying light coming through the trees ahead.

"Come on, sweetheart!"

But she was flagging, he could feel her weight pulling on his hand. He turned in time to see her legs give out from under her. The sounds of fire were getting closer. He scooped her up and kept going, running as fast as he could carrying their combined weight.

He burst into the clearing as the Falcon broke through the gathering pink clouds. Fire from all sides glanced off its shields and he prayed to anyone that the ships defenses would hold. Luckily, the tall trees offered some cover as the Falcon touched down in the barely large enough clearing. The ramp lowered and Han rushed aboard, feeling the heat and hearing the sizzle from a blaster bolt glancing off the side of the entrance.

Chewie was there, taking the Princess. And Han spared a moment to look behind him, searching for any sign of their partner. All he saw was Fett, breaking through the trees and rushing towards them.

He turned and hit the controls raising the platform and rushed into the cockpit. Without a conscious thought, he had them lifting out of the forest like a cork shooting off a bottle of champagne. As he rose above doing his best to dodge the persistent fire from the Sun, he saw the original clearing and the small ant-like body of their comrade. He was dead.

The Falcon lurched as a laser bolt breached her defense, but he was in the pink clouds now rushing through them so they looked like a bubbling, rose colored spray. He knew they couldn't see the ship now and he focused on building speed to burst through the planet's atmosphere.

Before he could take another breath, they were out into the darkness of space, leaving the accursed planet firmly in their wake. He worked furiously unwilling to let his guard down until the coordinates were set and they were safely ensconced in the tunnel-like confinement of hyperspace.

He pulled the trigger and felt the ship lurch fantastically, only now giving a thought to Chewie. He was sure the Princess was already strapped into the medi-pad but he hoped his copilot had had the presence of mind to secure himself.

The limping Wookiee appeared a second later and Han assumed with chagrin that that hadn't been the case. But Chewie didn't waste time on grievances.

[Is the other—?]

"He's gone," Han said simply. "The Princess?"

[Passed out, but stable. You'll need to tend to her wound.] Chewie's hands were too big for such detailed work.

Only now, Han allowed himself to slump against his chair. The fourth dimension whirled around them like the currents of an imaginary river.

"That was so close, Chewie."

His voice sounded weak, full of grief and fear. Like a child's.

[If the other hadn't called me…]

"I know," Han said regretfully.

[What happened?] Chewie was sitting in his chair looking searchingly at the Captain.

"It was a set up. The whole damn thing. Jabba's trap," he swallowed, "for me."

The Wookiee's eyes widened. They'd both been aware that he wasn't high on the Hutt's holiday card list, but this was far more serious than either had imagined.

Han dragged in a deep breath, hating what he was about to say.

"We have to leave the Alliance."

Chewie barked in protest but Han silenced him with a look.

"You know I'm right. They knew everything, Chewie. Well," he corrected himself, "They knew enough to use her against me." He kicked the side of the control panel, hurting himself more than the ship. "How the hell did they know that?"

But he supposed it wasn't that far beyond the realm of possibility. He was pretty sure everyone on the base knew about his infatuation with the Princess. All it would take was one of them. One no good, low lying piece of scum to…

Chewie growled softly.

[She won't be happy.]

Han scoffed. "Tell me something I don't know."

But the thought of the Princess was enough to break him out of this self-pitying trance. He looked meaningfully at the Wookiee, "Thanks pal. I owe you one."

Chewie shrugged, but Han felt his palpable relief just the same.

"I'm gonna go back there and make sure she's alright."

The Wookiee rumbled in agreement before turning towards the controls.

Han walked purposefully to the small alcove that housed the medi-pad. She was there, tucked under the plain fleece blankets looking incredibly small and vulnerable. She was paler than usual but her breathing was regular. Her right arm lay above the blankets, a mockery of the position he'd watched her in last night.

He closed his eyes willing the pain to recede. She was the one who was injured not him.

He got to work, relieved to have something to do. In silence he deftly cleaned, medicated and bandaged her wound. It wasn't that bad now that he had a chance to look at it. Just a deep glance off the side of her arm. But she must have lost a lot of blood if her unearthly paleness was anything to go by.

There was a small stool stashed under the bed and he pulled it out, settling onto it with a groan.

That was too close. Too damn close.

He could handle a lot of things, but not this. Never this. Never again. If he had to banish himself to the fires of Kest, he would never put her life in danger like that again.

He wanted to grip her tiny hand in his own. He wanted to feel her flesh and bone and know that she was safe and alive and real, but he didn't let himself do it.

He was in too far already.

He was as deep as he could go.

With a sign of resignation, he let the truth flood into his mind and obliterate everything he knew.

He, Han Solo, Captain of the Falcon and friend to no one, had fallen in love.


	4. Part III - Never Hurt Her (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

**Part III - Never Hurt Her**

Han Solo was angry. Very angry. In fact, he was pretty much angry all the time. It had been almost three weeks since the failed mission at Ord Mantell. In that time, the Alliance had fled from its latest base and set up shop on an ice ball called Hoth. It was ironic really, the name.

Princess Leia had been very clear that they could no longer remain on their last base, but she had adamantly refused to tell High Command anything about the bounty hunter. She claimed it was unnecessary information. Their location was compromised and that was all that mattered.

His recent acceptance of his feelings - how could he have kidded himself for so long? - didn't change anything. Or it changed everything depending on how you looked at it. He was leaving. His plan had been to go the minute they got back to base, but the realization that they would have to move it all again had stayed his hand. They needed his help and he wanted to make sure the Princess was secure in her new ivory tower before he made for parts unknown.

He smirked at the thought. _Ivory tower indeed._

Everything on this damn base was white. The walls, the animals, the mountains, even the Princess's latest get up. It reminded him of the senatorial robes she had abandoned so many moons ago. But this outfit was fit for a general, rather than a politician.

After all that's what she was. Not officially, but in every other way. She worked morning to night ensuring that everything made it from the old base to the new, that everyone had what they needed, that the new stronghold was secure.

_Since when does a princess man her own castle walls?_

She certainly didn't need him. And that was fine. Just fine. Perfect, in fact, since he didn't plan on being around much longer.

The Falcon was another story. It had taken some real damage during the desperate escape from Ord Mantell. And in the rush to move bases after their return, he hadn't had the time to repair her. She'd been hobbling back and forth seemingly on the last of her strength.

Luckily the last day or so had been relatively quiet. The Ion Canon had been installed, the shields were almost up, and the Base was settling into it's new routine. Chewie and he had finally gotten the chance to get down to business. Both of them were pretty shaken by the damage they inventoried. It was a wonder the ship had held up as long as it did. They got to work with grim determination.

However their usual dynamic was off. Throughout their partnership, Han had always appreciated their solid, companionable bond. But he couldn't shake the fury that raged through his system and he couldn't hide it from the perceptive Wookiee. What had started out as understanding patience quickly morphed into irritation as Han continuously snapped at his partner out of frustration and thinly veiled heartache.

The only relief he got from these aggravating emotions was when he was out doing something, preferably with Luke. Now that he knew he was leaving (and the sooner the better) he'd come to value his friendship with the would-be Jedi more than he ever had before. He was sorry to say goodbye to him and relished the dwindling opportunities they had to work together.

The kid had grown in leaps and bounds since Mos Eisley. Han could actually talk to him now without rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he sometimes felt like the gap between them was closing at an alarming rate. But something was little different today. They'd indulged in their usual banter, yet he could tell the kid was holding back, almost mulling something over. Finally, right before they were about to split up for a final sweep, it came out.

"You're really thinking about going aren't you?" Luke said, his cheerful tone wavering.

He wanted to avoid the question, but they'd pretty much exhausted all other topics. And if you didn't keep talking here, your lips were libel to freeze shut.

So, he grumbled, "Not _thinking_ about it."

"Never thought you'd actually do it," Luke said, shaking his head earnestly. Han felt a flash of irritation. He never used to care if he was a disappointment.

"Well, that was your mistake." It was a good retort, in line with the self he knew.

"Guess so," Luke said glumly. "Have you told Leia?"

Just the sound of her name brought in a hot tide of feeling. He'd always known that name was a problem. He heeled his taun taun, bursting forward in a flash of speed. Luke's creature ran after him, but didn't quite catch up. For a moment, Han lost himself in the cold rush of wintery air. He could just keep going, keep careening out into this frozen world and never have to face either of them or their expectations again.

He couldn't look at her these days. Those beautiful brown eyes seemed able to look right through him. He was sure if he looked at her for more than a flick, she'd know everything. Then what? So, he avoided her. And when he couldn't, he looked at her shoulder, her hair. Anywhere but those eyes, that face.

"Han we're about to get out of range. If we keep going we might get lost."

It was the kind of warning Han would usually scoff at, but the environment of Hoth was no joke. The difference between three hours out here and four could very well kill you.

"Alright, kid. Calm down."

Luke let out a bark of a laugh at this.

"Don't think I'm the one you need to worry about. What was that?"

Han was already turning back, trotting past Luke and his befuddlement.

"Been cooped up too long. Thought I'd let loose a little."

It was a good line, but he was a damn poor actor.

"So, I guess that's a no."

They were side by side again, moving at a fast clip.

"Haven't had a chance to tell her yet. No."

Luke sighed, his breath coming out in a white trail behind him.

"Sometimes I don't get you two," he said, raising the comlink to his mouth to combat the wind.

Han almost let the matter drop, let his lips ice over, but he was a glutton for punishment.

"What about us?"

Luke looked over at him, eyes unreadable through his mask. He was silent for a stretch. So long that Han almost prompted him again. Then-

"Back on Tatooine, you either liked someone or you didn't. That might sound simple and, maybe it was, but it made sense. I've always treated Leia like…well, like a princess. And yet, I'm not sure she'd be as sad if I left."

Han hated himself as he felt the warmth spread through him. For a second, this icy place didn't seem so bad.

"Who says she'll be sad?"

"I just did." Luke's voice sounded hollow, but he couldn't tell if it had more to do with the comlink or his feelings on the subject.

For a minute Han let himself see her expression in his mind's eye, both soft and steely, carrying the weight of her world and so many others…

He shook himself out of it, unable to cope with her even in his imagination.

"She'll get over it."

"You're right," Luke said, "She will. But you're crazy for wanting her to."

Luke turned towards his quadrant, trotting away into a blinding glare off the snow.

"Han," Luke's voice came through again, "The longer you stay, the worse it'll be. Either go or don't."

The conversation played on loop in his head, as he finished placing the censors he'd brought with him. He'd driven himself crazy imagining how she'd react to his departure. The truth was, he still wasn't sure he'd be able to tell her. One of his more shameful ideas was to leave while the base was sleeping, so their only goodbye would be a goodnight. She'd never forgive him, but it would be so much easier.

Maybe he'd kiss her, just once. A goodnight kiss, innocent enough to be fair. It was too late for passion, too late to give her the kind of kiss she deserved. He'd had so many chances over the years, but he'd been too stupid or too scared to take them. They haunted him now along with everything else.

"Echo Three to Echo 7. Han, ol' buddy, do you read me?"

Luke's voice came through sounding not a little conciliatory. He hadn't been out of line, but Han knew he'd be feeling guilty all the same. Luke was a good guy, a much better guy than him.

"Loud and clear, kid. What's up?"

"Well, I finished my circle. I don't pick up any life readings."

Han looked around the the barren ice field that stretched for endless miles on all sides broken only by the occasional jagged mountain range.

"There isn't enough life on this ice cube to fill a space cruiser. Censors are placed. I'm going back."

He didn't really feel like turning back, preferring this frozen wasteland to the reality of his situation back ho…there. But, he was nothing if not practical, and the longer he fooled around with the kid, the longer he'd be stuck here. _A flicking time bomb set to go off any moment._

Luke said something about a meteorite, and Han let him have his fun.

_Wish I could go find a fucking meteorite._

He turned his taun taun back towards the base, kicking it a little too hard.

* * *

The command center was up and running. The stations were all operational and a faint hum of electricity filled the bustling space. _It's almost warm in here,_ he thought as he stepped down through the doorframe.

He knew she was in the room. Could feel it without even looking at her. Like he had the damn force. But, once again, he didn't look at her, instead searching the space for the man he was here to see.

General Rieekan stood near a bank of computers, staring intently at the screen in front of him.

"Solo," the General greeted, briefly breaking his concentration.

"No sign of life out there, General. Censors are in place. You'll know if anything comes around."

"Has Skywalker reported in yet?"

"No. He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."

Han could feel her eyes on him and fought the urge to catch her in the act. In a rush, he realized she was close enough to hear. Part of him wanted to bolt, but a larger part wanted the shortcut. The deed he had dreaded could be done in a moment. And he wouldn't even have to look her in the eye. He interrupted Rieekan before he lost his nerve.

"General, I gotta leave. I can't stay anymore."

It was the first time he'd said it aloud to anyone. But he knew from the mounting tension between them that she had suspected as much. He wished he could gauge her reaction, but instead he waited for the dismissal he didn't need.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rieekan said, and Han believed him.

"Well," he explained for the General and anyone else who happened to be listening, "There's a price on my head. If I don't pay off Jabba the Hutt I'm a dead man."

_Or someone else is._

The General looked at him kindly. "A death mark's not an easy thing to live with. You're a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you."

With a handshake and a brief thank you, they were done.

Now for the hard part.

He turned and found her standing a couple metims away. She was gazing at him intently, not even attempting to hide the fact that she'd heard everything.

She finally knew. There was no good way to tell her, but the better part of him regretted taking the coward's way out. He caught her eyes, no longer caring what she saw reflected in his. For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in her presence. Even in her zipped up snowsuit, she was a sight.

"Well, your Highness, I guess this is it."

Her expression hardened into ice. "That's right."

It was the last thing he expected her to say. Protests, accusations, demands he'd expected. And maybe little sadness. But, cool acceptance? His heart hit the floor of the command center and broke into sharp jagged pieces. Just in time to cover the mess, he pulled out his good old reliable snark.

"Don't get all mushy on me. So long, Princess." And with that he was gone. Out the door, leaving his heart in the room and taking his anger with him.

"Han!" he heard her shout echo down the hallway.

 _Oh,_ now _she's sorry._

"Yes, your highnessness," he stopped where he was and turned rigidly to attention like one her tin soldiers.

"I thought you had decided to stay," her voice was still cool but very insistent.

"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."

He didn't bother to lower his voice and he saw her bristle at the confidential information.

"Han, we need you." There was a slight edge to her tone now. If she hadn't just eviscerated him, he might even call it desperation.

"We need?"

"Yes,"

"What about _you_ need?"

"I need?" Her eyes moved infinitesimally and he knew she was thinking back to the moment on the rock when she had asked him to stay - _for all of us_. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The snark was in the captain's seat and it wasn't going anywhere, "You probably don't."

She was following him as he hurtled down the hallway loudly feigning ignorance of their entire situation.

Great, this was just great. For the first time in his useless life he was trying to be a hero. Trying to be selfless because he was hopelessly in love with this little snow beast of a woman. And not only was she failing to give him a decent goodbye, she was pretending that everything between them - everything that was tearing him apart - didn't exist.

"Come on! You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."

"Yes!" she agreed almost stopping him in his tracks, "You're a great help to us. You're a natural leader."

_Just keep walking, Solo._

"No! That's not it." He was standing in front of her now, staring her down. If he was putting himself through Kest to protect her, she damn well better admit that there was something monumental between them. "Come on." He hated the sound of pleading in his voice, but her defenses seemed to falter a bit. "Ah!" he said triumphantly, "Come on."

Her brows drew together as her ever present stubbornness reared its ugly head.

"You're imagining things."

That would hurt if his heart was anywhere near his chest.

"Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was gonna leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"

That was low. The tragically interrupted kiss on the Ord rose between them.

"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee," she spat acidly.

"I can arrange that," he growled finally breaking away. "You could use a good kiss!"

She didn't follow this time and he thanked whatever gods were looking down on him. If he had known saying goodbye to her would be anything like that, he would have stayed away.

_Right, Solo. As if you could._

He shook his head and made his way directly to the hangar. It was way past time to go.

* * *

It was way past time to go. Han looked up at the ceiling with mounting dread as showers of ice crystals rained down on his still hobbled ship.

He and Chewie had been working furiously to finish the necessary repairs before they left this godsforsaken place, but the faster they worked the more mistakes they seemed to make. If the falling ice didn't kill them, they might just kill each other.

If it was possible he was even angrier than he'd been before. He wondered when this geyser of blackness would stop. When he broke through the atmosphere? When he jumped into hyperspace? Or would it never end, the fury dogging his steps for the rest of this life?

He had thought after that spectacular rescue, after his hotheaded choice to go after Luke in the middle of a freezing Hoth night, that she might change her tune just a bit. Maybe, just maybe she would realize what he meant to her during that long night in the bitter cold. Hadn't been why he did it - the fear that had spurred him on had been all the kid - but he was an opportunist at heart. Two birds, and all that.

They had arrived back on base, by some miracle (namely him) and the medics had immediately rushed out to take the kid to the bacta fluid. That was his only chance and Han knew it. If they hadn't installed those tanks in such a timely fashion, there wouldn't have been any point in rescuing him. Luke was close to frozen, real damage from hypothermia already setting in when he found him, but the bacta could reverse all that. Thank the gods for modern medicine.

He was oddly out of breath as he watched the stretcher race away. They'd been stuffed inside a little cockpit, and he'd helped with the transfer as best he could, but it didn't really account for the tightness in his chest. He promised the medics he would stop into the clinic, but he was pretty sure he was only having a delayed reaction to the whole crazy debacle.

That's when he'd seen her. She was standing across from him. He hadn't noticed her when they arrived, but she must have watched the whole scene. She was staring at him, eyes oddly glazed with tiredness or with something else. He couldn't tell. From the waxy color of her skin and the smudges under her eyes, he _could_ tell that she hadn't slept a wink last night.

She started towards him and his breathing steadied. Maybe she'd been worried. Maybe he was finally going to get that goodbye—

CRACK!

His head snapped back as her slap hit its mark. His eyes watered a bit, shocked by the force of the blow, especially considering her hands were encased in leather gloves.

As the shock subsided, the familiar anger took its place.

"What the hell?" he wheezed.

She was shaking, just a bit. Fury reflected back in her eyes.

"You had no right to do that," she said, voice low and dangerous, belying her tired form.

"No right to save you hero?" Her eyes flared. "Our friend?" He tried again.

"You didn't ask for clearance, you didn't tell anyone you were leaving, you…you took Alliance property, and lost it! Now we're down two animals."

He couldn't believe this. He truly was at a loss for words.

With an unintelligible growl, he turned on his heel, making good on his promise to head toward the med facilities.

She followed him, hissing like a mad moon cat.

"Don't you walk away from me, Solo. As long as you are under our roof, you have to show some modicum of respect for the way we do things here."

If she wasn't careful, he was going to hit her back. Any qualms he might have had were quickly disintegrating.

"It wasn't bad enough that one of our best pilots was lost out there, but then you had to try to double our casualties when there was almost no chance that either of you would survive—"

He couldn't listen to this anymore. He whirled around and pushed her against the wall. It didn't hurt her, but it finally shut her up.

"I am so sick of hearing about your statistics and data and casualty reports. It makes you sound like…" he wanted to say the Emperor, but he still couldn't hurt her that badly. He continued, voice lower and measured. "We're only human, Princess, and we're all trying to do the best that we can."

She was staring up at him, chest heaving, breath puffing out in little clouds of frozen air. He only now registered that his hands were on either side of her face, pressed into the ice wall, pinning her to the spot. Their bodies weren't touching, but they were close. So close that he could feel the heat coming off her in waves.

He couldn't keep up with himself, as his eyes dropped to her lips. Even now, when he was as close to hating her as he'd ever been, he wanted to kiss her. Her eyes widened as they took in his look, and her breathing only got more unsteady.

He should move away. But as she licked her lips, he could see they were slightly cracked by the cold and the dry. He wondered if they'd be brittle like the ice around them or thaw at his touch. The last thing he should do would be to lean in closer, to show her just how human he could be…

She put her handsup, pushing them against his chest, but not with any real force. Just enough to keep him for leaning any closer.

"Are you still leaving?"

Her voice had changed. It was completely different, small and so soft that only he could hear.

He realized he'd stopped breathing, and filled his lungs in a slow exaggerated fashion. Her hands were burning on his chest, even through the layers of clothing that were supposed to protect him. He needed to get out of here, or he was sure they would stick to him forever.

"I'm leaving as soon as the kid is better."

She immediately pushed him away, not violently but firmly. He was suddenly shockingly cold where her hands had been.

"Then we have nothing left to talk about," she said and purposely moved away, disappearing around the corner.

But he was left with an inkling: there was a crack in her ice. If only he could stick around to see if it got any bigger. He'd walked away with a slight spring in his step, relieved by the absence of ire.

He didn't want to think about what had come next. He didn't care enough to think about that kiss she'd given to Luke, the kiss he'd wanted for longer than he could remember. The kiss he'd imagined a million different ways.

Luckily, or quite unluckily, he didn't have time to think about it. The base was under attack. They hadn't even been here a month, and the Empire had sniffed them out. Everyone was evacuating, so he knew there would be no more excuses, no more waiting around for one more stupid moment with her.

A huge blast, louder and closer than anything so far shook the base. More ice showered down as frantic pilots and workers funneled around the remaining ships.

The hangar looked okay, but Han's gut told him that something had been hit. That blast was too loud to not be direct.

"Hey!" he shouted over the side to anyone who was listening, "were we hit?!"

"The command center!" a young orderly shouted back at him without breaking his hurried stride in the direction of the remaining transport.

His stomach flipped and Han felt even more chilled if that were possible. Leia could be there.

"Chewie! I have to check on something! Connect those power cables and then start her up. We don't have time for anything else!"

With that, he vaulted onto the wing of the ship and landed with a thud onto the tarmac. Like a trout swimming up stream he pushed his way through the rush of rebels and toward the tunnels that would take him to the last place he saw his heart.

The halls were an obstacle coarse even more dangerous than the hangars, but at least they were less crowded. He made it to the entrance of the command center amazed at the difference a day made. Most of the room was gone, buried under slabs of ice and fallen consuls. His heart was back with a vengeance beating frantically as he scanned the room. What kind of idiot had he been not to come for her sooner?

If his goal was to keep her from getting hurt, he was doing a damn poor job of it.

He caught a glimpse of white and rushed towards it.

"You alright?"

She whirled from her stooping stance at the computer and took him in with a heated glare.

_Now she thaws._

"Why are you still here?"

"Heard the command center had been hit."

As usual she bucked his expectations, turning briskly back to the blasted computer shouting, "You got your clearance to leave!"

Having no time for games, he climbed over the fallen consuls and growled, "Don't worry, I'll leave. But first I'm gonna get you to your transport." He was prepared to throw her over his shoulder, but she cunningly dodged his reach and weaved back to the only other standing station.

A huge explosion rocked the center, sending more ice and dazzling sparks cascading to the floor.

At least now she looked properly terrified. He pushed past the startled droid and reached her in two strides, gripping her arm before she could pull away.

"Alright. That's it," his tone brooked no refusal.

She looked up at him, face neither fire nor ice. He saw her reach a silent decision.

"Give the evacuation code signal." She glanced at him again, and that was all he needed to start hustling her along. He was having very bad associations with a previous escape they'd made. At least this time she was fully conscious.

**Continued in Chapter 5**


	5. Part III - Never Hurt Her (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

The escape wasn't pretty, but it would do. The ship rocked a little as another blast hit the surface. For now. They had managed to hole up beneath the surface of a giant asteroid. Of course they'd only had to do this because they couldn't switch to light speed. He was still mortified about the hyper drive. He'd never failed at getting it up before. That hyper drive was his pride and joy.

But, they'd made it. By sheer determination and not with any help from the wisecracking Princess. At some point he was really going to have to talk to her about the appropriate time for banter. Of course if the lingering grin on his face was any indication, it wouldn't be for a while.

She was off somewhere in the bowels of the ship wielding a micro-fuser. The idea was enough to get his engines going, but he knew this was no time for fun. Unbidden, a recent memory of her sitting in his lap snaked through his mind. The ship had rocked violently as the first attacks from pursuing tie fighters hit the asteroid. She'd fallen into his arms as if the gods themselves had put her there.

Would have been nice if she hadn't been so uptight.

Of course, he supposed he deserved that. Now that he was away from the base, away from that prison of an ice pen, he'd felt his anger start to dissipate. And once he wasn't in the grips of it, he could recognize that he hadn't exactly been a prince as of late. Certainly not fit for a princess.

He'd been nasty. He'd pushed her away. He'd toyed with her feelings. At least, he could imagine that's how she would see it. As usual, he had a knack for doing exactly the opposite of what he intended.

He sighed, trying to focus on the repairs in front of him. But, all his years on the freighter had made working on her second nature, and he found it didn't occupy his mind quite enough. He didn't want to hurt her. That was the whole point of this stupid dance they were doing. But, he also knew that emotional wounds would heal. It was much harder to come back from a bloody, violent death.

He shook his head slightly as the visions that had been plaguing him since the Ord invaded his mind. If Fett had decided to just aim a little to the right. If that Sun bastard had gotten impatient. He could see it all in bright living color. The blood gushing down her back, from her throat. In a mere moment, the life force of this woman who was everything to him could be gone forever.

At first, he had fought with himself. Wasn't it better that he stay and protect her from all the other threats in the universe? If he wasn't there, it would all fall on the kid. And the rest of the rebellion, he supposed. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't think clearly around her. He made too many mistakes. And if one of those mistakes got her killed…well, he'd never forgive himself.

"One day you're going to make a mistake, and I just hope I'm around to see it."

Her agitated voice floated back to him and he smiled wistfully.

Not if I have anything to say about it, Princess.

He wondered how much longer they had in the same space, breathing the same air. If things went according to plan (which they absolutely could), he and Chewie would have the hyperdrive fixed pretty soon and they'd be on their merry way. Once the coordinates were set, it would be a few short hours before they reached the rendezvous. And then…

He realized belatedly he was walking. Purposely striding through the corridor across the ship. He stopped himself, looking from left to right, trying to find something to divert his course. But he was already near the circuitry bay, and he could see the faint blue light emanating from within. The sizzle and pop of the micro-fuser filled the small space as the multi-talented Princess helped repair his ship.

What can it hurt? You'll be leaving soon anyway.

He knew he was asking for trouble. Odds were, it would just end in another fight. Another disappointing goodbye. He should just keep walking, help Chewie finish up the patch job on the hyperdrive.

But, he was already leaning into the door. Leia came into view, completely engrossed in her work. She was fighting with a lever and apparently losing the battle. Well, at least that was one thing he could get right. He reached out, meaning only to lend her some strength.

The minute his body touched hers she jumped like a live spark, violently shoving him away.

So much for painless.

"Hey, Your Worship. I'm only trying to help."

She didn't look at him, re-attacking the lever with gusto.

"Would you please stop calling me that," she gritted out.

"Sure, Leia."

He realized a flick too late what he had said. The barometer of the room dropped a little as the startling intimacy of that afternoon on Ord Mantell flooded back. She seemed to lose her strength for the moment.

"You make it so difficult sometimes." The words came out as a sigh, tinged with regret.

"I do, I really do." He was determined to turn the tide from this dangerous topic, "you could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I'm alright."

She gave the lever one last frustrated yank and let out a pained sigh, her hand rising to her lips. Even as she sucked on her injury, she turned towards him with fire in her eyes.

"Occasionally, maybe. When you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

And then it was right there. That hand. The one he'd never taken in all the months and years they'd known each other. And the temptation was too much. He scooped it up in his fingers, cradling it like a baby bird.

"Scoundrel? Scoundrel?!" The mock accusation was belied by the tender massage his fingers wrought on her skin. "I like the sound of that."

She only now seemed to notice what he was doing. She glanced frantically down at their joined hands.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" He was all innocence, knowing this game by heart.

"Stop that," she repeated breathlessly, "my hands are dirty."

Gotta do better than that, sweetheart.

"My hands are dirty too. What are you afraid of?"

"Afraid?"

She was terrified. She looked like a startled doe, ready to run at any moment.

"You're trembling." He was amazed to find it was true. If he had any doubt about her feelings…

"I'm not trembling."

The magnetic pull was back. And this time there weren't any gangsters or bounty hunters for a thousand miles.

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel." Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

She was grasping at straws now, but she didn't give up. Not his Princess.

"I happen to like nice men."

"I'm nice men…"

They were practically touching now, their heated breath beginning to mingle.

"No, you're not, your…"

Her words died on his lips. And it was finally over. The long wait. The interminable struggle against the one thing that neither of them could deny. She was moving against him, already sharing his passion, kissing him back. Her hand slipped into his hair, gripped his neck. It was as if she had taken the micro-fuser to him, welding his lips to hers. He never wanted to let go, nothing in the universe could stop this overwhelming —

"Sir! Sir! I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

The droid's voice broke the moment with the subtleness of a DeathHammer. Han wheeled out of pure annoyance, the familiar temper rising up inside him.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he ground out, willing the droid to go back where he came from.

"Oh you're perfectly welcome sir."

By the time he turned back, Leia was already around the corner scampering away to another part of the ship. He was tempted to follow. But he held back. There was too much to think about. This wasn't a game anymore. Not now that he knew she wanted him for sure.

He wasn't a monster. He wasn't trying to break her heart. He only wanted…he wanted…

A gurgling roar came from the center of the ship.

"Coming, Chewie! Hold your bantas!"

* * *

 

The feel of her chaste kiss left an imprint on his cheek. The first freely given. Oh, she'd responded back there in the circuitry bay, but he'd been the one to initiate. No doubt about that.

If you wanted me to lay off, you shouldn't have done that, my love.

The new moniker tickled at his senses. That's what she was. So much more fitting than any of the names he'd called her before.

They had felt like a team just now, mulling over their paltry list of options. She had been kind to him, almost contrite, obviously impressed by the ingenuity of his unlikely escape plan. He wasn't about to tell her the trash compactor move was an old standby.

Chewie bleated at him, full of questions. Now that they they were safely out of the Empire's grasp - and the hungry mouth of a gigantic space worm - they had a whole new set of problems.

Isn't that just my lot?

The hyperdrive had failed them a second time. If he wasn't still buzzing from that kiss, he'd be in the depths of despair. It was unbelievable - the first time his ship had totally failed him. He felt almost hurt. It was as if she were deliberately punishing him for all the neglect of the last few weeks.

Or because there's a new woman in my life?

He was struck by the accuracy of this thought as he started rattling off the possibilities that laid before them.

"Well, we can hook in the back up drive." He knew neither of them found that option appealing, since the back up was about a tenth as powerful as the normal one. "We could try to repair the hyper drive, again," he added caustically. "Or we could just keep going and get there sometime in our eighties."

The last option held a certain allure, since he had no great desire to see his old 'friend' Lando again. Particularly in the company of his beautiful, maddening Princess. She was just the kind of prize that Lando would go after. Not that he had any belief that she'd actually like him.

Right.

One of the many disadvantages of accepting his newfound ardor, was that an uncontrollable jealousy had seemed to manifest right alongside his kinder, gentler feelings. He'd always prided himself on riding above such petty distractions. If a woman wanted to be with another guy, then that's where she should be.

But, try as he might, he couldn't seem to think the same way about Leia. It was ridiculous really. She wasn't even his. He had no right to covet her the way he did.

The image of her all too recent kiss with Luke assaulted him once again. Oh Kest, that was the last thing he should be thinking about right now.

"Chewie! I need some caf. Let's meet back here in five."

What he needed was to get his head examined. They were in deep space, barely out of yet another brush with death and here he was licking his wounds over a nothing kiss between two kids barely out of their teens.

How, in all worlds, did he get involved in this?

He'd told himself she was just doing it to bait him, to punish him for the rocket ride of the last few weeks. But, the truth was she'd hit her mark. For the first time in his life, he'd felt like decking the kid. If only to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

He loved Luke. Like a brother. And he didn't appreciate a woman, no matter who that woman was, getting between their solid bond.

But if he ever had to choose…

She was no where to be seen and he wondered where she'd gone. The 'fresher? The sleeping quarters? Back to the circuitry bay?

If they didn't fix the hyper drive (and after two failed attempts, he didn't have high hopes that they would), they were gonna be in for a long trip. Part of him reveled in this possibility and part of him hated it. It was surprisingly painful being around the Princess as of late.

He'd never wanted to fall in love. He'd hadn't planned on it ever happening to him. But now that it had, he didn't want to lose it. Like every other schmuck in the universe, he wanted to be happy. And happiness seemed to be tied up in that little frame so tantalizingly close by.

He knew he'd want to kiss her again. He already did. And he knew that he only had so many heroic impulses in his smuggler's arsenal. If they were stuck on this ship for weeks on end…

The machine beeped signaling that a fresh batch of caf was ready for drinking. He'd never been so relieved to have a hot cup of caffeinated sludge in his life. He gulped down a couple scalding sips then poured a larger cup for his copilot.

Time to face the music, whatever it is.

* * *

 

After a couple hours of useless tinkering, it was clear the hyper drive wasn't gonna make a come back. He'd have to replace it completely and since the closest planet he'd even consider landing on was Bespin, he was temporarily out of luck. The only other choice was to install the back-up drive.

Before he and Chewie got started, he finally gave in to his curiosity and went looking for the wayward Princess. He eventually found her on the spare bunk, arms and legs scrunched in a tight ball of exhaustion. He didn't have the heart to wake her. After all, they'd have more than enough time to fill her in once the second hyper drive was installed. Instead, he reached for the extra blanket off his bed, and draped it over her, making sure to neatly tuck it around her form.

She shifted just a bit and he cursed his intrusion, but then she gripped the edge of the blanket and burrowed closer into the pillow. He sighed quietly. What he wouldn't give to be that pillow.

Taking another moment in the darkened silence of the sleeping quarters, he wondered how she'd react when he broke the news about the drive. She'd had a fair amount of experience with space travel, but he doubted she'd ever spent weeks on a journey. She seemed more like a planet dweller.

I'm sure that'll be her biggest concern. Getting her space legs.

Well, he had no idea how she'd react to the other facet of their situation. And there wasn't any point in wondering. He'd know soon enough.

With decision, he exited the room and headed to the center of the ship. Chewie had already made good work of disconnecting the hyperdrive which was much easier to take apart than to put together. Han didn't look forward to the job they'd have once they made it to Bespin. If they made it there. The back-up drive looked even more pathetic than he remembered.

They worked through what Han imagined was the evening. He'd have to set a shipboard time, now that their journey was going to be so long. The adrenaline spike of the last few hours (days?) had yet to completely fade. He supposed it would all hit him once the new drive was doing its job.

When the connections looked sound enough, he gave the Wookiee his best confident smirk before heading to cockpit to test things out. After the failed attempts earlier in the journey he felt sincere hesitation as he punched in the coordinates that would take them safely, if slowly, to Lando's planet.

For once, he was glad the Princess wasn't here. He'd rather her not see the performance anxiety written across his features. Better that the only witness to that was his hair, mussed once again by nervous fingers.

"Chewie! Be ready with the extinguisher!"

[Ready!] the Wookiee barked.

"Here goes nothing," with that dubious blessing, he pulled the lever that would take them to sub light speed.

With a gentle thrust, rather than the jaunty jerk they usually felt, the Falcon careened into speed smooth as silk.

"Well," was all he could manage. Delayed exhaustion stole over his limbs and without so much as a yawn, he fell asleep in his captain's chair.

* * *

 

He knew he was dreaming. The hand that was stroking his hair was far too gentle, almost loving. Nothing like that ever happened in his life. His feverish imagination had been up to tricks all night, conjuring visions of laughing princesses and clinging embraces. He was used to dreaming of her, but this time had been particularly potent. He really didn't want it to end.

He took a deep breath as wakefulness stole in like a thief, and jerked in surprise as the hand disappeared.

What —?

He sat up and blinked blearily. Leia sat across the cabin in Chewie's larger chair. It practically swallowed her up. She was looking out the front of the cockpit, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She couldn't have been… He raised his hand to his hair and felt around as if it would offer some clue.

She glanced at him, offering him a fast twitch smile. He frowned at her, still not quite feeling a part of this world.

"What time is it?" he grumbled.

She looked relieved to have something to talk about.

"I don't know. As far as I can tell, there isn't a chrono to be found on this ship."

He suddenly remembered. The escape. The hyperdrive. The kiss.

"No, there wouldn't be. We had to get out of there so fast, I never managed to set the time."

Leia nodded stiffly.

"Were you able to fix the drive?" She glanced out the transparisteel again, "It certainly looks like it."

He wasn't ready for this. He wanted food and caf first. But, he knew she'd just follow him if he tried to put it off.

"Princess," she looked sharply at him, "Leia." That seemed to appease her. He let out a heavy sigh and raised his hands to his hair. Her eyes followed his movement with slight fascination.

It's now or never.

"We couldn't fix the hyperdrive. Goldenrod was right," he gestured to the still silent droid draped over the communications chair. "The motivator's dead. We had to install the back-up drive."

She peered at him doubtfully, "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

"Because you're not," he couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth lifted at her ever-present perceptiveness. "It's gonna take us about six weeks to get to Bespin on the back-up drive."

Leia's face fell. His heart stuttered a bit as he took in her devastated expression.

He was about to launch into a terrific bit of self-defensive bluster when she dropped her head into her hands and burst into tears.

He was utterly floored. Shocked beyond belief. He had only seen Leia cry once. Late into the night her home world was destroyed. But never since then. Not in the nearly three years they'd known each other.

Her shoulders shook violently as she poured her sorrow into her hands. The wracking sobs reverberated off the cockpit and he instinctively looked to see if the door was closed. It was, and he felt oddly relieved that they wouldn't attract the attention of the only other crew member on board.

He wanted to be upset by her obvious distress at the idea of being on his ship for so long. With him. But, he couldn't bear her heartache and instead crouched down in front of her, running his hands up and down her arms. If anything this seemed to make matters worse. Feeling frantic, he moved his hands to her wrists and tried to ease her hands away from her buried face. He was sure if he could just look in her eyes, he could figure out a way to fix this.

She resisted at first, but eventually gave way, raising her tear stained face to look at his. The worst of it seemed to have subsided, but she still shook and hiccuped as she tried to regain her composure. He didn't know what to say, so he did the next best thing, lifting a hand to her temple and letting it gently cup her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly almost as if in pain before opening them again.

"Shhhh…" he gentled, rubbing a thumb along her cheekbone, erasing some of the tear tracks. She gulped in air, but continued to stare into his eyes, obviously waging an internal war.

He wondered if she would push him away as the air started to clear, but she didn't. His legs were protesting the odd position he was in, but he didn't want to move. Being this close to Leia, even in these less than ideal circumstances, was not something he wished to put an end to.

Curiosity winning out over caution, he finally found his voice.

"What is it? Are we really that bad?"

Her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

"Is that what you think?"

He shrugged and adjusted himself into a kneeling position, using the opportunity to mask the insecurity that stole over him.

"Well, it isn't every day I reduce a girl to tears with a travel itinerary."

She shook her head and let out an exasperated sound, the old Leia resurfacing.

"Han, can you be serious? For once?"

He almost snapped back at her, but her still shining eyes stopped him in his tracks.

"What do you want to be serious about?"

That seemed to calm her down a bit. She let out a small sigh and steadied herself.

"I—," he'd rarely seen her at a loss for words, "I don't know how to be around you."

He frowned. Would the confusion ever stop with this woman?

"What?"

She looked at him imploringly.

"You don't do anything for three years, besides tease me mercilessly," she added bitterly, "and then we're on that mission to Ord Mantell and you…" she looked like she was wanted to run, but he realized with a burst of understanding that there was no place to run. Not for six long weeks.

"You made me believe that you…meant to stay," she took a short, pained breath, "with me."

He felt his heart kick into hyperdrive. Were they really talking about this? Finally?

"Leia…" he said her name like a prayer. She looked back at him, half hope, half dread.

If he had the words, they were lost again as he looked up into her face. Moving with a grace that belied his roughened ways, he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her gently. She stiffened a bit before relaxing into his hands. The softness of her lips and the saltiness of her tears begged him to tread lightly, but the kiss quickly escalated as they gave into their mutual need.

She ran her hands across his shoulders, down his back and up again before diving into his hair. He groaned at the feeling and finally let loose, sensing the silent permission in her roving touch. Skimming his palms across her collarbones, he reached into her thermal jacket, wrapping his arms tightly around her tiny waist.

They were devouring each other, speaking in a language that couldn't be garbled or misread. He broke away from her mouth, peppering kisses over her face whispering "Leia, Leia," like a chant to some ancient deity. He wanted to touch her all over, feel her naked skin, but the snow suit she wore precluded any real contact.

Her breath was coming in fast, ragged gasps but she tipped her face towards him once more finding his mouth. The heat continued to build, filling him with a desire so great, he thought he might burst like a supernova. Becoming increasingly aware of other things that might burst, he shifted uncomfortably as his already tight pants threatened to cut off his circulation.

His slight hesitation seemed to call her back to reality. Her head tipped back as he attempted to continue his assault on her neck, foiled by the frustratingly high collar of her outfit.

"Han," she said breathlessly. "Han, this isn't solving anything."

"Solving?" his voice was muffled as he went for her earlobe instead. "Is there a problem?"

She let out a low throaty laugh and the blood that wasn't already there rushed down south.

"Of course there isn't for you."

This made him pause. Just a little bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She let out a tense little breath, but still clung to him even clutching a bit tighter.

"It's convenient, isn't it? A limited amount of time. You can have your fun and then…"

"Convenient?!" It was his turn to pull away. She resisted, but he leaned back nearly breaking their embrace. "There ain't nothing convenient about any of this, sweetheart."

"Oh, it's back to nicknames, is it?" She was angry now.

"It isn't back to anything. Don't try to weasel your way out of this. What is it exactly that you think I'm doing here?"

She frowned at him, looking for all the worlds, like a petulant child.

"Well, you've made it clear you don't plan on staying."

He released a breath, realizing with unwelcome clarity, that this wasn't going to go any further.

For the moment.

"I made it clear that I have to go. Yeah."

She let out another laugh, but this one was more of the bitter variety.

"Oh, yes, because a bounty hunter's after you. Aren't you special? It isn't as if we aren't all in the crosshairs of the Empire."

He looked at her in disbelief, finally breaking away completely. He rose onto tingling legs and leaned heavily against the control panel.

"That's cute, Princess. Yeah, I feel really special."

The tension ratcheted up and he considered turning around and storming out the cockpit door. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he'd fall on his face if he used his legs right now.

"Maybe that isn't the right way to say it," she allowed. "But anyone can see that it's just an excuse to get away —"

He looked at her sharply. His voice was dangerous.

"To get away from what?"

Her eyes betrayed her even as she set her jaw in firm detachment.

"Well, from me."

It was the last thing he expected her to say. But, the past couple days had been full of so many surprises he had ceased in counting them.

"Alright, Princess, I'll humor you. What in all Kest would make you think that?"

She stammered a bit, but soldiered on.

"The last thing I remember on Ord Mantell was you promising to stay. Everything felt different. It was…" she fought with herself and lost, "wonderful. And then I woke up at the Base and you were no where to be found. The next time I saw you. Days later." She dragged out days in an abnormal show of histrionics, "You acted as if nothing had ever happened. And before I knew what was going on, you were announcing to anyone who would listen that you were leaving."

The way she put it did make some kind of sick sense. He hadn't realized quite how coldly he'd come off. Of course, he remembered it all. The night he spent pacing in the hallway when they kept her for observation. The terrible loneliness that had followed their severed connection on the Ord. But he'd thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting her.

How could he make her see that?

He turned and took her in. Her arms were around herself as if warding off some drop in her internal temperature. She looked small and tired, her white snowsuit smudged and soiled.

"You're wrong," he said simply.

Her eyes were big as they followed his descent into the captain's chair.

"I love you."

He let the words fill the room, figuring that one statement could explain better than any set of excuses.

She frowned subtly doubt warring with disbelief across her face.

"You…"

He leaned forward. "I. Love. You."

He'd never been one for half measures. Once he knew how he felt, he said it. Once he decided what he wanted, he took it. Usually.

She briefly resembled a fish gulping water. "Then why…?"

He sighed, feeling truly ravenous as his other appetite went unmet.

"Look, we're both in need of some food and a hot shower. I'll explain everything you want to know when I don't feel like the something on the bottom of a gundark's left foot."

As if breaking out of a trance, Leia nodded dumbly and rose to her feet.

"What do you want first, shower or food?" he asked gently but firmly.

She considered a flick. "Shower."

"Good," he said, "Why don't you do that and I'll make us something to eat? We'll talk then."

She nodded again but seemed to be waiting for something.

After only a slight hesitation, he bent down and brushed his lips against hers. Then he hit the switch that opened the door and lead the way out.

**Continued in Chapter 6**


	6. Part III - Never Hurt Her (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

_What in all the blazes of Kest had he been thinking?_

His mind churned as he worked in the kitchen.

He'd told her he loved her. Without warning, without hesitation. It was as if he was trying to kill himself, one fool move at a time.

He hadn't meant to do that. In no possible universe had he thought he'd ever tell her the way he felt about her. Sure, he'd thought about it every now and then. The desire to know how she felt about him was overwhelming at times. But the desire to tell her had always been secondary.

He knew it was a bad idea. Had known from the moment he said it. If he was going to do what he needed to do - which was leave her, he reminded himself savagely - then he couldn't afford to deepen their bond even one tiny bit.

But when he'd looked into those doleful eyes, full of grief and mistrust, he hadn't been able to stop himself. He'd needed to reassure her, to redeem himself from the lies that had twisted things between them.

And she had looked better, at least less sad. Shocked beyond belief might be the best way to put it.

He felt the fire of hot shame crawl down his throat. What must she be thinking right now? Sure, she'd wanted to kiss him. She'd wanted him to stay around. But had she wanted this?

For the first time in the spacer's life, he was in a truly vulnerable position. He'd made it a lifelong quest to avoid this kind of situation no matter what the cost. And as he waited for her, heart stuck somewhere in the tight reaches of his throat, he knew why'd he done it. This was terrible. Awful. Worse than any of the dangers he'd faced as a smuggler or a rebel.

"Hhhhhhfff Rrrrrgh?"

Han jumped splashing boiling water across the stove. He hissed as it hit his hand, stepping back instinctively into his copilot.

"Chewie! Would you tell a guy before you sneak up on him like that?" he hollered irritably.

He'd almost forgotten the Wookiee existed during the turmoil of the last few minutes (hours?).

[Sorry.] he could hear the annoyance in the Chewie's bark [Another fight with the Princess?]

He might as well be transparisteel.

Well, considering the last twenty minutes, he supposed that was accurate.

"Wouldn't call it a fight exactly." Han re-approached the stove, wielding a plasti-spoon like a weapon.

[Did you tell her about the hyperdrive?]

"Yeah, I told her. Great way to start a day."

He made a mental note to set the damn chronos. He couldn't even do his job anymore.

[Was she upset?] the Wookiee prodded.

"I don't know, Chewie. She was a lot of things." He sighed, almost wanting to confide in his best friend, but not knowing where to begin. _Or who might be listening._

The Wookiee was silent. He didn't enter the kitchen since it was so small they couldn't both share the space. But he didn't seem to be going anywhere either.

[Maybe this will give you the chance you've been looking for.] Chewie rumbled.

Han whirled on him in disbelief.

"Nothing has changed, buddy. We still have to take off the minute we get her back."

The Wookiee shook his head, looking at Han almost sadly.

[When will you realize that your life is happening now?]

Han scoffed. "What, are you some big philosopher all the sudden? Gonna go become a Jedi like Luke?"

The Wookiee let out a gurgling laugh. [I should consider a career change.]

With that, the Wookiee backed out of the entrance and took a seat at the table.

Han was both relieved and annoyed that he'd be joining their meal. It gave him a brief reprieve from the emotional inquisition that awaited him, but he also knew the Princess would be disappointed. He hoped she'd be disappointed.

He felt the slightest amount of remorse as he emptied the water from the boiled nerf dumplings. He'd been nothing but unpleasant to his copilot and best friend as of late. And now he didn't even want the big fur-ball around. He made a quick decision to lighten up on the guy. After all, he was the only creature in the galaxy Han could count on. Well…

He looked over his shoulder, willing the princess to appear. What was taking her so long? The longer she was in there, the longer she had to think about what he'd just said. The more time she had to figure out the best way to rebuff him, to keep the delicate balance of their friendship intact.

Was that what she'd want? He had no idea anymore. He didn't know anything.

For someone with Han's inborn confidence this was a scary thought to entertain.

He shuffled into the common area, the bowls of food in his hands. It wasn't anything fancy, but it would get the job done. He'd already downed a cup of caf and was about to get some more when she appeared.

She edged in from the corridor all fidgets and barely concealed agitation. She was looking at the ground, a hand toying nervously with her long damp hair. He wanted to keep moving, keep up some pretense of not caring, but he was suspended in the moment, waiting for her to look at him.

She finally did, and the blast of heat almost knocked him off his feet. If he'd thought things would cool down once his feelings were out in the open, he was wrong.

"I…" she swallowed, "I hope I didn't take too long." She looked at Chewie apologetically. "The shower felt so good after all…" she waved a hand as if brushing away the events of the last couple days.

Chewie bleated cheerfully, trying to put her at ease.

She smiled at him, clearly picking up on his intention and made her way to the table.

Han forced himself to continue walking to the kitchen. He was about to reach for the caf when he thought of something better and stretched up to a cupboard tucked above the tiny sink. He pulled down a bottle of Corellian Whiskey and yanked off the top. He was tempted to take a swig right there, but figured that might be a bit too desperate even for him. Instead he gathered up a handful of glasses and walked briskly back towards the table.

"Now that we aren't Empire bait anymore, I figured we might want to have a toast," he said gruffly, his voice half an octave lower than its normal key.

_Good job, Solo. Really subtle._

Leia looked suspiciously at the bottle.

"Isn't it a little early for whiskey?"

Well, she's still her royal self.

"Haven't set the shipboard chronos yet," he said jauntily, "It's whatever time we want it to be."

With that he reached for the bottle and poured a healthy amount for him and Chewie. The Wookiee eyed it appreciatively as they waited to see what the Princess would do.

With a slight shake of her head and an indulgent eye roll, she gestured for him to pour her one too.

He fought a triumphant grin as he poured her a daintier portion. Looking up he saw her eyebrow lift, and with an amused smirk, he poured until she had as much as they did.

They lifted their glasses and waited for someone at the table to speak. The human occupants were painfully aware of at each other, neither willing to break the silence first.

"Grrrrrraaaarrgghhh," Chewie gargled loudly.

Both the Princess and the Pirate released a much needed laugh.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Leia smiled at the Wookiee and then shyly back at him.

Since when was the Princess ever shy?

After a healthy swig, they got down to the business of eating, making little conversation as they filled their empty stomachs. Han couldn't remember the last time any of them had had time for a meal. It was strange going from all the action and insanity of the last few days to this quiet almost homey tableau.

Leia kept glancing at him, immediately blushing and looking away when he happened to glance back at her. It was frustrating and anxiety inducing. If he could just make her look at him for more than half a flick, he was sure he'd be able to read what she was up to.

The Wookiee looked between them every now and then, shaking his head in a amused sort of way when the

Princess wasn't looking. Han scowled at him, but then eased off as he remembered his recent promise to be nicer to the guy.

When they didn't have a morsel of food left on the table, he knew their time was up. They couldn't put off the inevitable forever. _If only they could…_

He supposed he could come up with some excuse, checking on the new hyperdrive or some such nonsense. They certainly had work to do on the ship now that they were stuck on it, but all of that could wait.

Besides, he didn't know if he could go a second longer without knowing what was going on behind those big brown eyes. Or under that billowing white shirt.

Without asking, Leia had borrowed some of his clothes. He didn't quite know how to feel about that. Of course, there wasn't any other choice. Her snowsuit had to be disgusting at this point. And hot. But, the intimacy of the action startled him in a way that threw him off balance.

_And when's the last time you felt anything close to balance, buddy?_

It was true. Like someone kept switching off the gravity inducers, his whole world was flipping upside down constantly without any warning. Days ago he was leaving, nearly gone from this small woman's life. Now they were here, and everything was about to change between them. Again.

Chewie started gathering up the dishes and offered to do the wash.

Leia looked at Han for translation, and he told her what Chewie had said.

"I can do it!" she volunteered with fraught sweetness. Han would have teased her about her sudden altruism if it wasn't such an obvious attempt to avoid their upcoming conversation.

But, he couldn't blame her. He'd happily do the damn dishes if it would get him out of this.

However, he knew that Chewie was doing it on purpose to let them get on with their business. Whatever that was.

"Come on, Princess," he grumbled as he got up from the table.

He'd tell her to forget it. Pretend he'd never said it. They could get though this trip. They could be civil. He could keep himself from touching her, from wanting her with ever fiber or his —

"Where are you going?" she asked, perplexed.

He was headed toward the cockpit, the site of their most recent encounter, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

"Can we…" she gathered her thoughts, "Can we find some place a little…"

She shrugged her shoulders obviously frustrated by her sudden loss of basic language.

He didn't think she'd want to go to the sleeping quarters. No matter how tempting such a thought was. He frowned as he tried to read her desire. The cockpit was certainly private enough.

"Nevermind," she sighed and started to follow him.

"Wait a flick. Just let me think," he said wanting to please her. Always wanting that.

An idea occurred to him and he diverted their course making for one of the cargo areas. She trailed after him, seeming as eager as he felt. They walked past the hyperdrive, and he keyed in the code to the door of the back cargo hold. It opened with a whoosh and he gestured for her to go in. She looked at him dubiously, but passed through looking around in the dim light.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw what he was looking for. A couch, part of an old shipment that he'd run ages ago, rested in the corner of the hold. The desert prince had given it to him as a gift of thanks. Han had always meant to throw it out, complaining about the waste of space. But somehow he'd never gotten around to it.

_Maybe I was distracted by, I don't know, a civil war._

He certainly wasn't distracted now. Now that they were alone together once again.

Leia moved toward the couch and ran a tentative hand over the soft velveteen fabric. She looked back at him with that shy smile on her face.

"This is better. Thank you."

His heart kicked into gear and sent emissaries out to the appropriate organs.

_Not now, you idiot._

"Yeah, well, it doesn't get a whole lotta use. Don't usually have time to lounge around."

She settled herself on the far side, tucking her legs up under her. She looked at him expectantly and he approached the couch like a man facing a firing squad.

"I'm not going to bite, you know," her voice was low and throaty.

His heart sent out reinforcements, and he stifled a groan.

"You better stop talking that way if we're gonna get anything done here, sweetheart."

"Leia," she corrected.

He didn't say anything as he took his place on the cushions. He settled back, relishing the unusual softness of this present perch. Maybe he shouldn't throw it out…

"Han," her hand was on his arm and he turned to face her, startled by the contact.

They looked at each other, neither breaking the touch, letting the moment stretch on how it would.

"Is it true?" her voice held fear and something he might call hope.

"Is what true?" he stalled.

She wasn't cowed. "What you said?"

He looked away for a moment wishing he could do it, wishing he could take the whole thing back, pretend it was a slip of the tongue, a practical joke.

"Yeah, Leia. It's true."

Her intake of breath drew his gaze back to her.

"When did this happen?" she was all confusion, all mixed up emotion.

He'd give his right leg to be anywhere but here, but he summoned his courage and let the words flow out.

"I don't know exactly. It's been happening for a while. I mean, I always. You knew I…"

She dipped her head, embarrassment evident on her features.

"I always wanted you," he said it plainly figuring he was already lost, "But then I started to care about you. That started pretty quick. On that damn moon back at the beginning. And it just kept growing. I knew I wasn't what you wanted. I knew you'd end up with someone more like yourself, someone high up there," he gestured to the top of the cargo hold, to the stars beyond. "But, I couldn't help it. And then…when I thought I might lose you," he swallowed painfully, "on Ord Mantell, I just knew."

His confession settled into the silence of the hold, like so much dust floating onto the furniture.

"I thought you hated me."

She whispered the statement like she was confessing a crime.

"What? All those years?" he felt his systems quake.

"No, no, of course not," she chided, "just after Ord Mantell. When you pulled away. I thought you blamed me for getting you caught up…with that bounty hunter. For risking both our lives. You had tried to tell me, and I refused to listen."

He let out a humorless laugh. "If I held it against you every time you made a bullheaded decision…"

"Hey," she tapped him lightly on the shoulder, less a hit than a caress.

"How could you ever in a million years think that I hated you?"

She shook her head, speechless for a moment.

"Well, you certainly don't hide your feelings well. Whatever they are. You were just so angry, and no matter how I tried to reach you, you kept pushing me away…"

He nodded, knowing that he'd done it all.

"Just tell me why," she pleaded. "Why were you pushing me away?"

He sighed feeling like he didn't know anymore.

"I was angry with myself, Leia. You almost died. Because of me."

"It was only a blaster bolt."

"It was so much more than that!" he stood and paced as he spoke, "Those bucketheads found out how I felt about you - before I'd even admitted it to myself! - and used it to lure me in. It was sheer luck that we made it out of there. If Fitch hadn't called for Chewie."

"Yes," she said sadly, "he really came through."

"And I didn't even want him there," he recalled, cringing at the memory.

"Neither did I," she reminded him.

He breathed for a moment, repositioning himself on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked straight ahead, letting her continue her appraisal.

"And that's what I'm talking about. We don't think clearly. Especially when it involves each other," he gave her a sideways smile full of regret.

She frowned at him, obviously processing everything he'd just said.

"You're an idiot," she said finally.

He shook his head, incredulous. "Don't I know it."

"Han, there will always be someone trying to kill me, trying to kill you. That's just our life."

He continued to stare forward trying to ignore the little thrill at her use of _our_.

"You can't run every time things get a little…complicated."

"Complicated," he scoffed. "That's a nice way of putting it."

She didn't say anything and he looked back at her, already knowing she wanted him to be serious. He waited for her command. A servant to his master.

"I can't let myself," she tried again, "I can't give into these feelings if you are going to run from me."

Her breath was shallow, but her gaze unwavering. He felt the wings of hope spread out within his chest.

"You broke my heart when you said you were leaving," she said without a hint of embarrassment. "I'm still trying to…heal."

His head was spinning. He felt like he'd just taken a double hit of the most expensive spice.

"But if you'd consider staying…" her voice trailed off as she looked at his lips.

He was lost. He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to tell her yes, he'd stay as long as she'd have him. But the other part of him, the part that had been at the helm for too long, knew he couldn't do it. He had to deal with his business, get his life back in order, before he could promise her anything.

So, he said nothing. He kept looking at her, hoping the moment would never end.

With a resigned sigh, she lifted a hand to his face, stroking his cheek then smoothing his hair.

"You're trying. I can see you're trying," she said softly. "I just wish you'd try and trust me."

With that, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever received, more holy than it was heated. She lingered, breath washing over his face.

With a little sigh, she asked wonderingly, "Where did you come from, flyboy?"

And then without ceremony, she laid down, her head resting in his lap. He stared down at her in awe as she gave him a soft, slow smile before closing her eyes. She didn't seem to be going anywhere, so he finally lowered his hands, one resting on the back of the couch, the other finding purchase in her hair. He stroked it experimentally. When she let out a little sigh of pleasure, he continued to stroke it, reveling in the soft silken feel against his fingers.

He didn't know what had just happened, but he'd be a damn fool to want to be anywhere else but here.

* * *

If Chewie found their new detente confusing, he didn't mention it. After what seemed like hours (or minutes?), they headed back to the center of the ship, filled with a new sense of energy and lightness. They had six weeks ahead of them. Six long weeks stuck on a freighter careening slowly through space. They'd need to inventory what they had, make it stretch, make sure they wouldn't be starving or crazy by the time they made it to civilization.

What had seemed like a stroke of terrible luck a few hours ago suddenly didn't seem so bad. If he and Leia had made it to this point in less than a day (he thought it was a day), where could they be in six weeks?

_How much deeper will you bury yourself?_ the snide voice remarked.

Han paused in his tracks and answered it back. However deep I have to, he thought. Nothing would keep him away from that woman, if she would have him.

That question remained to be answered. Leia had been the softest, most pliable version of her herself he had ever seen in that hold. She had released herself fully, allowing him to touch her and kiss her and cradle her. He'd never felt such a connection to another human being before.

But, it hadn't gone any farther. He wouldn't have dreamt of pushing, not in that moment. It was wonderful enough the way it was. But, he knew he'd want more of her, all of her. And soon.

" _I can't give into these feelings…"_

Her cautionary statement haunted him now that he was back in the bright lights of the main ship. Did that mean she would keep him at a distance? Let him kiss her and sometimes touch her, but nothing more?

_Whatever she wants to give you should be enough, pal. It's more than you ever thought you'd get._

Women like Leia were never on the itinerary. Too complicated, too high maintenance.

_Too above you._

He had no doubt that Leia was above him. Way above. But, he also didn't doubt his feelings. He'd made a career of following his gut, and it screamed with knowing when he held her in his arms.

She was his fate. Whether it was today, for the next six weeks, or forever. He didn't—

_Forever?_

That thought stopped him in his tracks again and this time Chewie looked at him askance.

"Just remembered something," Han covered.

He made his way to the control room and got to work setting the shipboard time. He paused for a moment trying to orient himself. Giving up as his brain stumbled over the calculations, he decided on as good a time as any. 1700 hours. Not so long before bed…

He couldn't keep up with the wild ride in his mind. One minute he was thinking about a terrifying concept like forever and the next he was back in the gutter with everyone else.

He shook his head, leasing whatever control he had over his mind's working to the gods.

_You guys seem to know a lot better than me._

Leia was in the front cargo hold taking inventory of their food supplies. Han was pretty sure they would be fine in that department. Between having a Wookiee for a copilot and his distaste for long planet stays, the Falcon was stocked to the gills. He may not have expected a six week journey, but he was always prepared for something to go sideways.

Still, the Princess had insisted on making herself useful. And maybe it was better that they spent a little time apart. A little time for him to get his head screwed on straight.

The next part of their new reality was truly perplexing. The Falcon was outfitted with one and only one crew's quarters. The three beds inside the sleeping apartment each hugged a wall, their alcoves offering a small amount of privacy. Chewie was way too big for the beds, so he'd always holed up across the ship on a hammock - the preferred way of sleeping for his kind.

So that left him and Leia. One room. All night.

This wouldn't have been a bad thing. Not in any universe. But, he knew that she might feel a bit differently.

They wanted each other. If they hadn't said it explicitly, their recent actions and admissions had made that clear. When he was with her, he felt like the entire universe was nothing more than so many distractions. He'd wanted to lose himself in her since the moment he'd seen her.

But, more important, he wanted her to love him. The thought struck with startling accuracy. He wanted her to trust him, to let him in fully with an open heart.

"Ugh…"

He couldn't even stand being in his own head anymore.

Is that what love did? No wonder he'd avoided it for so long.

He could offer to sleep in the cockpit. The idea held little appeal, his neck still protesting against the accidental nap he'd taken earlier. And then, he supposed there was the couch they'd just vacated.

But, he didn't want to sleep away from her. He didn't want to be away from her at all. He wondered if he could convince her to stay with him, if he promised not to push for anything more than sleeping.

He shook his head. Even he knew, he didn't have the strength for that.

It was truly confounding, and as he found happening a lot these days, he ceded control to the higher powers whether they be godly and frustratingly female.

He reentered the common area to find Chewie still out working and Leia waiting for him.

"I couldn't find any caf, but beyond that we seem to be fine," she smiled at him guilelessly, "You were right."

If he lived to be a hundred, he'd never tire of hearing her say that. Especially when she was smiling at him while she did it.

"Don't worry about the caf," he said knowing that they both shared the same consuming addiction, "I keep it in the galley. Easier access."

She laughed a little, and kept looking at him. The same heat that had become increasingly familiar as of late flared between them.

"Did you two find anything interesting?" she asked, a hand absently rubbing the space next to her. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or unconsciously.

He and Chewie had been inspecting the systems, making sure that everything would keep running for the duration of their journey.

"Haven't found anything too alarming," he supplied, "Not in the best shape of her life, but she'll do until we get to Bespin."

Leia looked at him inquisitively, "Do Captains always talk about their ships that way? Like it's a woman?"

He was a little thrown by her question, used to Leia sticking to business mode when they were in it.

"Every one I've ever known did. That's just the way it is."

"Hmmmm…" she said thoughtfully. "Explains a lot."

Now he was really interested.

"What do you mean by that?" his tone held no accusation, just an open curiosity.

"Why you captains are so hard to tie down," she said with a cheeky smile.

He didn't know how she did it, took a normal conversation and turned it into something so devastatingly sexy. He used to think he had that ability, but now he fully recognized his own inferiority. His clumsy seductions would only serve to make her mad. Hers were effortless, artless, and so incredibly effective.

"Well, they do tend to make jealous mistresses," he ceded, trying to keep up with her game.

Leia looked around, a curious smile on her face.

"Perhaps she and I can come an understanding," she said. "Now that we have some time together."

If Chewie wasn't steps away, Han would have taken her into his arms right then and there. Hesitation be damned.

She seemed to feel the same way, rising from the table and coming around to lean against it. She ran her hand down his arm, and looked up at him with a more earnest expression.

"I missed you," she said softly. She shook her head, reminding him of himself a few moments ago. "You were a room away for less than an hour, and I missed you."

Her hand continued making hot trails up and down, gliding from his shoulder, across his bicep, down to his wrist and back again. He reached for it, unable to bear it a moment longer, and raised it to his lips, kissing her palm while holding her gaze.

She let out a short breath, irises expanding with want.

Chewie chose that moment to walk into the room and right into Han's line of sight. With a little sigh, he stepped back and let her hand drop to her side.

[Don't let me interrupt] the Wookiee teased.

Han was glad for the hundredth time the Princess didn't understand Wookiee.

"Chewie's just saying that everything's clear," he translated falsely.

[Tell her I think she could do better] the Wookiee jibed.

"He says it couldn't look better," Han continued.

Leia looked between the two pilots, eyes narrowing in comprehension.

"I'm not sure I want to know…" she said with humor.

The three of them settled around the holo-chess table, proceeding with their unspoken plan of making a plan.

"Well, now that we know we're not going to have too much trouble, I guess we should figure out what the Kest we're gonna be doing for the next six weeks."

Many options, none of them appropriate for group share, flooded Han's head as he mentally kicked himself for setting up that one.

Leia was silent for a moment glancing around the common room. Something caught her eye and she turned back to Han.

"You set the chronos?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, finally got around to it. Couldn't remember what time it was for the life of me so I just chose a number."

She nodded. "That feels about right to me."

They talked for a bit, positing different ideas for how to pass the time. Han and Chewie listed off at least a dozen repairs they could do within the ship. Unfortunately, the majority of the big stuff would have to wait until they got to Bespin since there was no way to work on the outer haul while at speed.

Leia was a little more of a conundrum. Having been forced evacuate the base in such spectacular fashion she had absolutely nothing with her. Han knew he could recruit her for a couple basic patch jobs, but the majority of the work would be too detailed for her to comprehend.

The shipboard computer was rudimentary, only outfitted to run the ship and not much more. It certainly wouldn't allow her to do any of the kind of work she was used to doing on base.

"I've got a datapad," Han offered. "Of course, there probably isn't much on it that would interest you."

Leia looked at him quizzically, "Afraid I'll find something incriminating, Captain?"

The Wookiee let out a raucous yelp of laughter.

"Good one, Princess. You're more than welcome to look at it. I keep the really bad stuff up here," he drawled, giving his temple a tap and enjoying the slight color that rose in her cheeks.

"Well," she said clearing the air, "I suppose that's all we can do for now. I'm not kidding when I say that I'll work on anything." He could sense the slight air of anxiety around her. She wasn't used to having nothing to do.

He reigned in a smile. Perhaps this wasn't the worst thing to happen. Maybe it would do his princess some good. At least, he could make sure she ate enough while she was trapped on his ship. The rest he supposed was up to her.

Reminded of his stomach which was already up for another round of rations, he rose from the table and offered to start a meal.

Leia rose with him. "As long as you let me help," she said quickly.

He had his doubts about both of them fitting in the galley then realized immediately that some accidental touching was not at all a bad thing.

"After you, your Highnessness."

* * *

They'd made a better meal than his first effort. Now that they weren't starving and had accepted their vastly extended itinerary, they were able to take their time preparing something truly decent. The Princess was no chef - he doubted she'd spent much time in front of a stove having grown up with servants and then eating in mess halls - but she was a quick learner. She had the kind of fearlessness one needed to become a great cook. He wondered if she'd be teaching him some tricks by the time they landed in Cloud City.

The meal had been pleasant, far more relaxed then their first attempt a few hours before. Neither Chewie nor Leia protested when he brought out the whiskey again. Leia sipped it slowly, watching him over the rim, the heat of the whiskey reflected in her eyes.

He still didn't know what would happen tonight. And as the time flicked by, he could feel the tension accumulate in his system.

Leia was flipping though his datapad, nose scrunched as she took in its meager offerings. He had the sudden wish that he had made an attempt at a more cultured collection. A few classics, some interesting articles. Anything other than the endless manuals and reference sources he had stored away.

He'd never been a big reader. He supposed that wouldn't come as much of surprise to Leia, who struck him as the bookish type. At least, he imagined that's how she had been. A first class student, smart beyond her years. Before the wheel of history had turned and deposited her smack-dab in the middle of a revolution.

He felt a pang for the girl she must have been. In so many ways she still was a girl, her smooth skin and changeable nature a testament to that. But, he knew she'd had to grow up way before her time. He wondered if she would have had him if things weren't the way they were.

_Oh yeah, pal, and what makes you think she'll have you now?_

Han contemplated this as he continued to watch the Princess read. He could read a woman. If there was anything that he could boast, it was that. But, he found that his own feelings, his own absurd attachment, seemed to cloud his usually sound judgement. He could notice the tell-tale signs: the quickened breath, the heated looks, but he couldn't add it up into what he wanted.

She was so strong-willed and disciplined in a way he never was. If she didn't want to give into what her body was craving, she wouldn't. It was as simple as that.

She looked up, catching him red-handed in the act of openly staring at her. The old Leia would have bristled, maybe asked him what exactly he was looking at. But this new Leia, this supple sweetened version, just gave him a smile and reached a hand out to his.

"Find anything interesting?" he asked around the lump in his throat.

She smirked a bit, glancing down at the datapad in consternation.

"You definitely have pretty singular interests. If I wanted to learn everything there was to know about hyperdrive motivators, I'd be set."

He chuckled, toying with her proffered hand.

"Well, you said you wanted to get to know the Falcon. That's probably as good a place to start as any."

She looked down at the datapad again, this time with slightly more interest.

"I guess you're right," she said, taking it under advisement. "But for tonight, I think I'll have to pass. I doubt my mind could comprehend anything that complex right now."

"Well, you've got a reference here," he said referring to himself, "if you don't know what something means or you have a question."

She took him in with a measuring glance, "My, aren't you useful. If I had known you were this helpful, I would have made nice a long time ago."

"I haven't always been this helpful, sweetheart. Guess you just bring it out of me."

The silence of space settled in around them, punctuated only by the faint hum of the ship working continuously. Chewie had made himself scarce, holed up in his part of the ship finally getting the sleep the tireless copilot deserved.

Leia looked down at their intertwined hands and marveled softly, "Why does this feel so normal? Weren't we fighting like cats and dogs two days ago?"

He shrugged, as much at a loss as she was.

She put down the data pad and moved toward him, tucking her knees up beneath her so she could look into his face at level with her own. Her knees were pushed gently against the side of his thigh, his torso torqued toward her. She raised her hands to either side of his face and started a featherlike exploration of his features. She tickled the hair at his temples and traced his jawline, then returned to his crown running her fingers through his hair.

"I love this," referring to his ever-tousled mop, "I've always loved it."

He looked at her, frozen in place, waiting to see what else she'd do.

"And this," she continued moving a finger to the scar on his chin. "Where did you get it?"

He didn't know if his voice would work, but tried for it anyway.

"Uh…pissed off a couple Yevetha. Back when I first started smuggling. They've got sharp claws down on N'zoth."

She frowned a bit, not liking the subject matter. Well, what did she expect?

Then she bent forward and kissed it, ever so gently, before pulling back again.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, toying with his collar, eyes lowered in a way that seemed almost demure.

"I've wanted you for so long, I don't know what to do," she said, her voice dripping over his lap like nectar from the gods.

His breath hitched in his chest as he finally let his hands run up her sides and encircle her waist.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that," he said before diving into her neck, laying a hot trail of kisses along the collar of his shirt.

She leaned back, giving him better access. The only sounds were her labored breaths and the quiet rustle of their clothes. He pulled her across his lap, so he was cradling her against his chest, her arms around his neck and his hands exploring her bare back under the flap of his shirt. Her skin was so soft, it reminded him of the velveteen couch they'd been on a few hours ago. The memory of the intimacy of those stolen moments only served to intensify the moment they found themselves in now.

He kissed her like a drowning man, taking gulps of life giving air from her mouth. She was no less frenzied, meeting him with as much passion as he felt. He had never been so overcome, so carried along in a current beyond his control. If he'd known it could be like this, he would have abandoned all other fruitless pursuits long ago.

She was pulling away, but only slightly, dropping kisses across his jaw, his temple, his brow. A groan, so uninhibited he couldn't believe it came from him, ripped through his throat. How had he lived without this for so long?

He was becoming increasingly aware of the presence of other impassioned areas. She was draped across his lap, all heat and muscle and sumptuous motion. There was no hiding the effect she had on him, not when she was sitting like that. She moved against him again, and he let out another groan of pleasure and frustration.

"Leia…" his voice was pleading and cautioning at the same time.

She looked at him, the cool dignity of the politician and princess completely gone, replaced by the fire of a women in—

"Let's go," she whispered, not breaking eye contact for a second.

He almost spent himself right there, her words igniting a landslide of feelings throughout him.

"Are you…?"

"Don't ask questions, Solo," she said firmly, already maneuvering herself off the acceleration couch. "At least not ones you don't want answered."

He rose, almost painfully, as he watched her brush her hands across her wild hair. At some point, he'd have to declare his mutual love for that beautiful mane, but for now he was speechless. A willing slave to her whims.

She took his hand and led him toward the sleeping quarters. He'd heard of out of body experiences, but had never given much credence to the idea. Yet, as they made their way into the crew's apartment, he had the oddest sensation of watching the action from above.

The door slid shut with a mechanical sigh, and they were alone in the dimly lit quarters.

For a moment he wondered if this was a dream, one of his twilight fantasies. The desire to see her in the light warred with the desire to touch her. Now. He stood suspended between the two needs.

"Well, what are you —?"

Touching won out, as he pulled her against him, reclaiming her impatient mouth. They were caught in a desperate wave now, hands everywhere at once. He pulled at his shirt, tugging it over her head. He found her bare and dropped to his knees, peppering kisses across her flat belly, running his hands along her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples as they passed.

It was her turn to groan now, a sound filled with so much want it almost broke his heart. He pulled her towards him lowering her, so they were both kneeling. His hands dove into her hair, getting lost in its silken mass.

"Han," she whispered. "Please…"

"What do you want?" he asked, kissing her everywhere, unable to decide where to land.

"I want…" she drew in a quick breath as his teeth attached to a nipple, gently tugging it and laving it with his tongue.

She moaned again, granting him access to her chest. He moved a hand up, giving attention to the other mound as he continued his ministrations.

She was gripping the back of his shirt. Pulling it ineffectually even as she leaned into his mouth.

He was loath to give up his newfound paradise, but her hands were insistent and he wanted to please her. He pulled away briefly to whip the offending cloth over his head, throwing it to the floor with more force than necessary.

She laughed huskily, hands already finding his chest, running down every inch of it, lingering on his pecs and skating along his tightened core. They were both breathing heavily, looking at each other with hungry eyes.

She caught his gaze and lifted her hands to touch the sides of his face.

"Love me," she said, devastating in her unguarded supplication.

That was all he needed. Without another word, he pulled them up, scooping her into his arms. He walked toward his bed, depositing her like a piece of the most delicate Coruscant china.

He stood over her, taking in her loveliness. He knew that somewhere along the line some wires had crossed. A girl like her was not supposed to be with a guy like him. But he thanked the gods for happy accidents as he lowered himself, ready for whatever fate awaited him.

**Continued in Chapter 7**


	7. Part III - Never Hurt He (4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

They were now lovers - in nearly every sense of the word. After she had given herself to him, any of the remaining barriers between them had dissolved. What had seemed like an interminable prison sentence at the outset - six long weeks in space - now seemed like the blink of an eye. There could never be enough time to know her, to show her his love.

After that first night, they had quickly settled into a comfortable shipboard routine. He and Chewie would work on repairs, sometimes requesting their stowaway's help when it was needed. Leia really did take an interest in the Falcon, getting up to speed on her inner workings through various chores and the manuals on his datapad.

When they weren't occupied with the laundry list of repairs, Chewie would teach her bits and pieces of the Wookiee dialect. It didn't surprise him in the least that she was a quick study. She brought a whole new meaning to the term Teacher's Pet, charming the Wookiee in her own right. Chewie had always been encouraging of his feelings for her, even before he'd admitted them to himself, but now he seemed to have developed a real affection for the errant royal.

And so, they lived, from meal to meal, from repair job to vocabulary lesson, blissfully tucked away from the waiting world. Of course, there were other things that occupied their time.

Leia was an eager and ardent lover, quickly shedding her mantle of inexperience. Just as she was with him in the kitchen and with Chewie in her lessons, she was a fast learner.

They explored every inch of the other's body, spending long sleepless nights entwined in each other's embrace. The other bunks went untouched, silent witnesses to the lovers in Han's far from spacious nook. But, the lack of space didn't seem to matter as they could never seem to get close enough. There were nights he forgot which limbs were his and which were hers.

The life they'd had before this trip seemed a million lightyears away. He almost had a hard time recalling a point when she wasn't his. Because that's how it felt now, that they belonged to each other no matter what might come to pass.

There was only one sore spot in this entire situation. The topic of what might happen when they rejoined society lay just beyond the periphery of their happy bubble. They hadn't broached the subject again, not after that first afternoon on the sultan's couch. He thought they both could sense that it would pierce their happiness, fill their newfound clarity with cloudbursts of doubt.

He didn't want to leave. Never had that option been less tolerable. But the facts of the situation hadn't changed. He was still a wanted man, and as long as he failed to deal with that fact, he'd be a danger to the one person he loved most.

Love.

Perhaps there was one other sore spot.

Despite surrendering herself to him in every other sense, she still had yet to say the word. Oh, she'd tell him she loved things about him. That she loved their time together. That she loved the damn ravioli he'd cooked her. But she never said the three little words that had fallen out of his mouth their first night on board.

He knew she was scared. Scared of what awaited them when they got to Bespin. Scared to ask him what he would do when they got there. But, it didn't keep the fact of her omission from sticking in his heart every time he thought of it.

He'd never been one to wait. Especially for a woman. Usually women would be waiting on him. Waiting for a commitment that would never come. So, it was strange to find himself in this position now, waiting on her.

"Hey you," her voice tickled his ear. She swooped in from behind his shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

It was crunch time now. They were three days from their destination. He could feel the tension mounting between them, but appreciated her effort at lightness all the same.

"What do you think of this?"

He was sketching a diagram, toying with an improvement to the environmental system. After all her study over the last few weeks, she'd developed a pretty good eye for what might work.

She glanced at the drawing, admiring his handiwork.

"Do you think you have time to do it now?" she asked, then immediately continued away from the unpalatable subject, "I suppose if I help you and Chewie, we could make some progress."

Her hand was on his shoulder, then dipping into his shirt, stroking the soft hair that started just below his collarbone.

"Maybe," he sighed, no longer caring about a useless diagram.

He felt her chin on the top of his head as her arms slid around him. Then she was burying her face into the crook of his neck, seeming to breath him in.

"Let's just keep going," she said, a painful longing evident in her muted voice.

He let out a long, pent-up breath.

"And where would we go, Princess?"

He hadn't used that moniker in a while. In fact, he had dispensed with most her nicknames finding that he couldn't say her name enough. It had become his favorite sound in the world.

She nipped his neck, silently chiding him for his lapse.

"Anywhere," she sighed.

He frowned, almost carried along with her. But there wasn't anywhere in the universe they'd be safe from Jabba's hunters. Not to mention the entirety of the Empire. And they both knew it.

"What will you do…" her voice was louder now, next to his ear, "when we get to Bespin?"

The question they avoided. The question he hated.

"Leia…" he knew she could sense where this was going because her arms abruptly disappeared and she came marching around to the front of the table.

"Han," she said dangerously.

And here it was, the moment of truth, the moment they both knew she had been waiting for.

"You know what I have to do, what we both have to do."

"Remind me," she all but growled.

He took a breath, steadying himself for the onslaught.

"We'll make our repairs, should take a day or two, then we'll hook up at with the rebels at the rendezvous…"

"And then?" she was intent, like a lioness stalking her prey.

He paused for a moment, basking in her terrible beauty.

"And then I go," he said simply.

Her visage cracked just a little. The angry fire flickering in her eyes.

"How can you say that? After all of this…?"

Her eyes were shining now, he couldn't decide if the fire would burn up the water or if the water would douse the flame.

"Because our reality hasn't changed," they'd taken to using words like this now, without thinking, without fear.

"No," she said savagely, "that's your reality, Han. My reality is that I can't," she sucked in a frantic breath, "I can't—"

Her breath was coming in quick inhalations, too quickly he realized. She brought her hands to her chest, eyes wide and blank as she tried to get a handle on her struggling system. He realized with a sudden panic that she was hyperventilating.

He was at her side in a moment, his hands vigorously stroking her back, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement. She looked at him wildly, the water winning out, flooding forth from her eyes. He pulled her close, tucking her head underneath his chin, clutching onto her shuddering frame like a space walker to his tether.

"Leia, Leia…" he whispered against her hair, his heart breaking for her even as it was cracking in its own right.

A somewhat feral sound emanated from her tiny frame, but she kept clinging to him, breath starting to attempt its normal rhythms.

"I'll come back," he said, his voice taking on the hypnotic lilt of a nursery song, "I'll make a deal. I'll talk my way out of it. I can always do that…"

He was having sincere doubts on that front as he held his greatest verbal sparing partner in his arms. But, he didn't know what else to say, to himself or to her.

"He'll kill you," she moaned, sounding every bit like the teenager she'd been a few short years ago.

"I'm worth a lot more alive than dead, sw—" he stopped himself, knowing a nickname would only set her off again.

"Your worth more to me," she said, not attempting any sort of sweetness only stating the simple fact like the pragmatist she was.

"And you don't know what that means…" he said, feeling like he was in uncharted water. "I've never had anyone to fight for. Not before you and the kid." Gods, he hadn't thought about Luke in what seemed like forever. He hoped the young Jedi was alright.

Her face was pressed against his chest so close he wondered how she could breathe at all.

"l will do everything in my power to come back to you. I love you," he said, finally at a loss for what else he could possibly say.

Leia pushed away, gently but firmly. She looked up into his face with chilly eyes. He was startled by the change, unaccustomed to the cold after so many weeks of warmth.

"You say that."

And without a backward glance, she turned away, purposely heading toward a part of the ship where he knew she didn't want him to follow. He imagined she was going to their cargo hold, the secret place they went when it was too late to be in bed and to early to start again.

He lifted his hands to his face, attempting to scrub away the tumult inside. He'd known that was coming, hadn't he? So why did it hurt so damn much now that it was here?

* * *

The clouds here were orangey red, reminding him unpleasantly of the pink swath around Ord Mantell. But now instead of leaving the clouds behind, he was traveling deeper into their fiery hue. He felt the oddest sensation, a tugging at the edge of his subconscious.

_Turn around._

He'd had enough of that from Leia. The closer they got to the planet the more she turned her ire away from him and toward their destination. It felt wrong, she said. Something was off.

Though he was relieved to have a scape goat as their time together drew to a close, he also didn't appreciate her consuming doubts. Didn't she know that he would never take her somewhere he thought was truly dangerous?

It was true, they didn't have a lot of options, but Han was certain that Lando would take them in. They may have been rivals, but along with that competition had come a real camaraderie. Besides Chewie and before Luke and Leia, he'd been one of the smuggler's only friends.

"…landing permit?"

He was used to this kind of red tape and answered in a measured, but mirthless tone.

"No, I don't have a landing permit. I'm trying to reach Lando Calrissian."

Lazer bolts immediately hit the Falcon.

"Whoa! Whoa! Lemme explain!"

Maybe he should have gone with humor.

"I thought you knew this person," Leia charged, icily.

[Perhaps he hasn't forgiven you for seducing his mistress.] Chewie hooted.

Han almost cringed, knowing the Princess could most likely understand, "Well that was a long time ago, I'm sure he's forgotten about that."

"Permission granted to land on Platform 327."

"Thank you," he said with palpable relief, "Nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me."

"Who's worried?" Leia quipped, not bothering to cover the aggravation in her tone.

The ridiculous looking cruisers continued to flank the ship's sides, allowing the Falcon to complete its decent into the floating city. It had been a long time since he'd been here. He supposed it would have been the fateful game that won him his ship and Lando his city.

Leia stayed standing the whole descent, as if ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. He supposed he should be flattered by her obvious trust in his piloting skills. He wasn't.

She rocked forward slightly as the landing gear hit the tarmac beneath.

"Here we go…" her voice held a darkness he didn't like one bit.

"That's right, Princess," he answered back irritably, their recent, lustrous lovemaking all but faded from his mind.

They'd held each other in the last hours before their approach, for once throwing the rules of decorum out the window. Leia had always insisted they keep regular hours out of respect for Chewie. But, it was sometime in the middle of that last day when they found themselves in the afterglow of another mind-blowing communion.

He'd never had sex like this. He'd certainly been around and enjoyed himself at every turn. But this was different. All that stuff they said about love…it seemed to be true. When they came together like this, it wasn't just pure lust though there was that in abundance. It also held the essence of that first afternoon in the cargo hold, the feeling of souls blending just as much as bodies.

He shifted uncomfortably, not used to entertaining such thoughts. But, he pulled her closer all the same. He could get addicted to this. He _was_ addicted to this. He hated to think about what would happen when his supply was cut off. Like any spice trader, he'd seen what withdrawal looked like. It definitely wasn't pretty.

If she would only say it. He was somehow sure those words from her lips could sustain him to Kest and back.

"Leia?"

She stirred against him, not answering with words but with a soft, drowsy hum.

He should really let her sleep. She'd been so anxious, so testy, the last couple days. The only relief she seemed to get came in these moments after they'd claimed each other all over again. She'd sleep then, able to forget the reality that was rushing towards them with every passing moment.

But he was a selfish jerk, he'd always known that.

"Do you trust me?"

It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but it was as close as he could get.

She was silent and he wondered if she'd gone after all. But then her hand moved, stroking his chest and slipping around his middle, so she was pressed against him even tighter.

"I want to."

He lifted his head and looked at her, not liking that answer in the least.

All he could see was the top of her head, curled into his chest. Her little sigh swept across his abdomen.

Was that why she wouldn't say it? Something told him trust was a major component of love.

"You've saved my life more times than I probably know. You've been there for me, for Luke, for the Rebellion. But…"

"What?" He slid down so he could look her in the eye. She scrunched her face as if to obscure her true feelings before diving into his neck. Wrapping his arms around her, he stroked her back, waiting for her to continue. Her voice drifted up, slightly muffled by his skin. But the vibrations struck him to the core.

"You have more power over me than anyone. But you don't seem to know how to use it."

Moving against her, he brushed his already returning hardness against her.

"I don't know how to use it, huh?"

She laughed a little.

"You know how to use that," she said, almost purring. "But this…" she pressed a kiss above his heart. "I don't think you have as much experience with this."

It hurt. More than it should have. He wanted to press her. He wanted to defend himself. But, instead he rolled her over and positioned himself above her. Guess he'd stick to what he was good at.

The sting hadn't gone away. He could still feel it even as he tried to keep his mind on the task at hand.

They gathered themselves up, waiting impatiently for the nattering droid to make his way down the hall. None of them were particularly pleased to have him back among the living. Or powered, as it were. Of course, none of them were particularly pleased at all in this moment. It wasn't just the obvious. Both Chewie and Han hated asking for favors more than just about anything else in the Galaxy.

Han lead the way down the ship's ramp, not able to help scoping the place out for signs of danger. The Princess had really gotten in his head. The rest of the group followed while he kept his eye on the doors at the end of a generous walkway.

"Oh," it was the droid, "No one to meet us."

"I don't like this…" Leia said needlessly.

Han felt his temper flare and turned back to her, spoiling for a fight.

"What would you like?" he asked almost nastily.

She softened just a bit, speaking in their new language of looks and sighs. _I'm on your side…_

He immediately felt sorry. "Look, don't worry, everything's gonna be fine. Trust me."

As if on cue, the doors at the end of the platform hissed open.

"See?" Her eyes caught his, "My friend."

He quickly turned away, unwilling to let her see his own niggling of doubt. He tilted back as he passed the Wookiee and gestured him forward.

"Keep your eyes open, huh?"

Then striding onto the platform, he opened his arms in the universal sign of good intentions.

"Hey!" he called, trying to erase any tension from his voice.

"Why you slimey, double-crossing, no good swindler," a slightly older, more distinguished Lando spat as he came striding up. "You got a lot of guts coming here. After what you pulled."

Han mentally catalogued all the various insults and vagaries the gambler could be referring to. He also took mental inventory of the team of men behind him, not at all liking his odds.

Lando moved forward, murder in his eyes, and then just as he was about to take a swing, he dove forward and wrapped his arms around the very startled Han.

Belting out a prankster's laugh, he slapped Han enthusiastically on the shoulders. "How you doing you old pirate? So good to see you! Never thought I'd see you again. Not on this gas heap!"

Han was relieved - beyond relieved - as he shared in his friend's obvious enjoyment of the situation.

"What are you been doing here?"

"Ah, repairs. I thought you could help me out."

Lando's eyes narrowed. "What have you done to my ship?"

"Your ship? Hey, remember you lost her to me fair and square," he didn't know which mistress he was referring to now.

As if sensing the slant of his thoughts, Lando looked over his shoulder. Han was instantly reminded of the precious cargo he carried behind him.

"And how you doing Chewbacca?" Lando greeted. "Still hanging around with this loser?"

[Unfortunately] Chewie barked.

Han saw Leia arrive on the scene just as Lando's smooth baritone crooned out another tune.

"Hello, what have we here?"

Han didn't know how she managed to look so stunning stuffed back into her snowsuit, but he sincerely wished she wouldn't. Leia held the gambler's eye contact, reminding him of her royal rearing.

"Welcome, I'm Lando Calrissian. I'm the administrator of this facility." He was all charm, with an added spice of authority.

Han couldn't help the nerves that brought his hand into his hair. He sauntered around the scene, biting back his irritation (jealousy?) as she answered Lando's smoothness with some charm of her own.

"Leia," she said. No title, no nothing.

The gambler raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it like Han was so much cloud cover in the background.

Han finally chanced a look at his princess only to find her smirking expectantly at him, apparently enjoying his obvious discomfort.

"Alright, alright," he had the grace to find it funny now as he reclaimed Leia's waiting hand, "You old smoothie."

Leia smiled the first genuine smile he'd seen all day. Even if it was at his expense, he was relieved to see it.

The four of them now escorted by one irritatingly suave gambler made their way through the gorgeous outpost. Leia's little sound of appreciation spurred Han to action. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He told Lando what they needed and politely enquired after the man's latest venture.

See? He could be charming too.

Leia trailed behind, letting the boys do their thing. As was always the case, her presence held part of his focus, like the next destination on a nav computer. He wondered if she was impressed by all this. He certainly didn't have a city to his name. Just one sorry ship.

Really, there wasn't much to love.

Embarrassed by his sudden insecurities, he refocused on what the gambler turned administrator was saying.

"I'm setting you up with a penthouse," he said as he keyed in the code at yet another white door.

It swished open revealing a breathtaking suite appointed simply and stylishly. "You see, it pays to have friends in high places."

Han smirked, "Just because you live in the clouds…"

Lando slapped his back and barked with laughter. "Gods, I've missed you. These people are so…serious."

Leia arrived in the room and took it in with hesitant appreciation.

"This is lovely," she said, albeit a bit grudgingly.

Lando turned towards her obviously sensing another opportunity to play his hand.

"And it's fully stocked. There's a service droid who can get you anything you require, including…" he looked down at her rather dingy snowsuit, "some fresh clothes. If you'd like."

How could she resist?

"Thank you, Mr. Calrissian."

The jealousy was back. And it was definitely jealousy this time.

"Lando, why don't I follow you out, so you can show me those mechanics of yours," he said loudly, looking for any excuse to break up the moment.

The man smiled wickedly at him.

"We could always wait a bit, grab a nice meal, take a little tour…"

"No time," Han said quickly. "We gotta get going as soon as we can."

He sensed a seismic shift to his right and glanced back to see Leia quaking ever so slightly.

God, he was an idiot.

He walked to her and without any consideration for the man behind him leaned down to kiss her firmly on the lips. She resisted a bit, then relented, letting her hands rest on his biceps.

He pulled back and willed the world away for just a flick.

"I'll be back soon and we'll talk. Just…" he searched for something suitable, "enjoy yourself."

She looked at him doubtfully, but didn't argue, instead squeezing his shoulders and giving him another more lingering kiss.

"Don't take too long," she said.

They stepped apart and turned to the waiting administrator. His face was a careful blank, but Han already knew he'd be in for a fair bit of razzing once they departed.

"The bedrooms are that way," he gestured across the room with a sweep of his hand. "You ready, Solo?"

Han shook his head, still oddly uncomfortable with this arrangement. "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

It certainly took too long. Lando's workers had made quick work of installing the new and improved hyperdrive. After which, Lando seemed to take special pleasure in making sure his men addressed every single minor flaw on the Falcon.

He knew the man was teasing him, testing him to see how far he'd bend before he broke and went back to his princess in her tower. But, giving into the old instincts that had gotten him this far, he refused to buckle. Instead, he directed the mechanics with relish, allowing himself to be slightly pleased by the royal treatment given to his other lady.

When they truly could not find one more deficiency, Lando finally folded, suggesting that Han make his way back to the penthouse. But, before they parted ways the gambler made his next play, pledging to pick them up in a short while for that promised tour.

Han couldn't get back to the penthouse fast enough. Chewie stayed to finish up with the mechanics and agreed to meet them back in their plush new setting when he was done.

He keyed in the entry and stepped into the room, immediately getting an eyeful of cleaned and coiffured Leia. A spike of adrenaline and desire shot through him as he took her in. Before he could get completely distracted, he gave her the update he knew she'd want.

"The ship's almost finished, two or three more things and we're in great shape."

She nodded briskly, charging toward him. Oh no.

"The sooner the better. Something's wrong here. No one has seen or knows anything about Threepio. And he's been gone too long to have gotten lost…"

He truly could not keep up with the constant changes in her weather system. Hours ago she was trembling at the very idea of departure, now they couldn't leave soon enough.

He did the only thing he knew would calm her seas, gently taking her shoulders in his hands and dropping a kiss on her brow.

"Relax," he said soothingly, moving to finger her braids. "I'll talk to Lando, see what I can find out."

"I don't trust Lando," the intensity was still there, but she lowered onto the a seat, waiting to be appeased.

"I don't trust him either," he said wheedlingly, "but he is my friend."

She looked at him, eyes warming with grudging affection.

"Besides, we'll soon be off."

In an uncharacteristic delay, she processed his statement before her goodwill froze over.

"And then your as good as gone aren't you?"

He looked down for a flick, not wanting to broach the subject again. He felt like a child, gazing into the stern eyes of his mother. It was an odd sensation, and made him think not of himself, but of the child that might one day be a product of their love. Would she look at him that way?

"Leia…"

The door swished open and a clearly upset Wookiee barged through the door. He was carrying a box of what looked to be See-Threepio.

Leia was shot up, concern coloring her voice.

"What happened?"

[I found him near the furnace.] Chewie growled.

"Where?" Han asked, truly confused.

[The trash room.]

He translated for Leia, who looked like she was having a hard time processing.

"Found him in a junk pile."

"Oh, what a mess," she groaned, "Chewie, you think you can repair him?"

[I'll try.] the Wookie answered dubiously.

Looking for a way to redeem the situation Han spoke up.

"Lando's got people who can fix him." They'd probably take their time too.

"No thanks," Leia hissed, clearly not appreciating the suggestion.

A chime of warning sounded and the man in question descended into the room.

"I'm sorry am I interrupting anything?" he said too innocently.

Leia's subtle adjustment of her gown made Han's mood plummet further.

"Not really," she supplied.

Lando's face broke out into a smile, and he looked like the cat who'd finally found the cream.

"You look absolutely beautiful…" he trailed off adding a hint of vulnerability to the last syllable. A seasoned player in action.

Han had to cover his grimace as their host continued his blatant seduction, "You truly belong with us among the clouds. Would you join me for a little refreshment?"

It was a shameless pick up and both Chewie and Leia reacted accordingly, Chewie grunting his disapproval and Leia looking truly scandalized.

"Everyone's invited of course," Lando added as an afterthought, unwavering in his grab for her hand and her attention.

_Alright, fun's over._

Han stepped up beside the woman in question and offered her his arm. Without hesitation she switched over, seeming to relax as he laid his claim.

Lando finally noticed box of golden limbs.

"Problem with your droid?"

"No," he answered reflexively. Something in Lando's face – an interest that was a bit too piqued - made him continue with a jaunty, "No problem. Why?"

Maybe the Princess wasn't just paranoid.

The small talk started as the made their way through the crowed corridors. He let Leia take the lead as he tried to sort through the odd sensation of real distrust that had sprung up in the last few moments. It was obvious that the man was toying with them, but Han couldn't figure out if it was all in good fun or had a more sinister edge.

He tuned back in, searching for clues.

"…our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."

"Aren't you afraid the Empire's gonna find out about this little operation. Shut you down?"

Maybe he was making a play for the Falcon, looking for a back-up plan in case this thing went belly up.

Lando gave a very politic answer but all Han heard was the word "deal." It reverberated through him as Lando palmed open a set of wide double doors in front of them.

What was he-

Before Han could finish the thought, his blaster was in his hand shooting uselessly at a realized nightmare before him.

Vader. Darth Vader was here. In the…flesh?

His gun flew out of his hand and into the dark lord's fist.

He'd never seen the man before. Now that he was standing in front of them, at the head of a long empty table, Han had his doubts as to whether that was an apt label. There didn't seem to be anything human about him, besides his humanoid shape.

"We would be honored if you would join us," he said in a deep mechanical drawl. Another walking nightmare stepped into view - Boba Fett - Han's ever-dogged shadow.

He turned, instinctively looking for escape but immediately saw the squadron of storm troopers assembled in the hall. His gaze cut to Lando, betrayal evident before he could quash it.

"I had no choice, they arrived right before you did," he said, tonelessly. And then, "I'm sorry."

He could feel Leia's mounting panic next to him and reached decisively for her hand, the man in front of him no longer of any concern.

"I'm sorry too."

With that, and one more cornered howl from Chewie, they entered the room. Game over. Read 'em and weep.

* * *

They were pawns in the dark lord's new game of choice, and they were being moved again. Han could feel the lingering effects of the torture he'd received radiating through his now-frayed nerves. It seemed to keep time with his steps, right - ho - left - ly - right - hell…and so on.

Leia was there, as close as she could get without touching him. The guards had left her and Chewie un-cuffed but had obviously deemed him a possible threat. He supposed that had something to do with the clumsy punch he'd thrown at Lando in their holding cell.

_Well, I had to take my shot._

He knew it was a dumb move. And pointless. There was nothing they could do now besides try their hardest to keep alive. It made him want to rip his hands out of these shackles, grab the nearest blaster and start firing like a madman. But, Han was nothing if not opportunistic. He knew when to fight (most of the time) and when to wait for his next chance.

Of course, that had always been easier when it was just his hide on the line. Even with Chewie, he'd always trusted the big guy to take care of himself. But Leia…

He could feel her hidden terror, pulsing off her like waves. Her breath was shallow and hitching with the effort to keep her features placid and unmoved. She'd had practice he knew, putting on a brave face, never showing her emotions. But something had changed in the last few weeks. The hard shell of the politician had been breached, and he felt somewhat responsible as they entered a gaping chamber.

The puffs of orange steam emanating from the sunken center reminded Han of the clouds they'd seen on first arrival. The same foreboding feeling came over him now, which almost made him laugh.

_You must be one with the force if you can tell this ain't good._

He knew he was in trouble. He just couldn't think beyond Leia right now.

What would they do to her? Would she survive?

The droid was nattering on again, and he almost appreciated it. He imagined the white helmeted guards around them were just as tortured by the racket. At least there was that.

They came to a stop in front of the pit, and that bad feeling grew about ten times. Lando was there facing away from them, looking into the crater. Boba Fett stood to the side silently waiting on the action to commence.

"What's goin' on, buddy?" the last word dripped with sarcasm, a brand new ocean of bad blood between them.

"You're being put into carbon freeze." Lando muttered, trying but failing to look at the doomed smuggler.

"What if he doesn't survive…?" Fett's voice pinged across the chamber caught in some kind of trick of the acoustics.

Han tuned him out, turning to look down at Leia. It was happening, the separation they'd both dreaded. Just not in any way he could have predicted. She looked up at him, eyes wide and too full, mouth partially open as if to utter a protest. He did his best to comfort her, offering her a wry sad half-smile.

Chewie started moaning, frantically thrashing as he took advantage of the guards' stupid lapse.

_That Wookiee's a lot more dangerous than me._

Han almost let him rampage. Almost joined in the fun. But, his goal was clear. Still so clear in his mind.

"Stop Chewie, stop! Stop! Chewie - STOP!" Han yelled at the top of his lungs, not managing to get Chewie's attention before a handful of storm troopers had been thrown over the side of the platform.

_Good boy._

"Hey! Hey! Listen to me. Chewie. Chewie, this won't help me. Save your strength. They'll be another time. The Princess. You have to take care of her."

She had to be safe, she had survive, no matter what.

Leia moved to the pair, looking up at Chewie like an orphaned child.

He was getting through. Chewie took him in with hunted eyes, but then dropped his gaze to Leia. He'd take care of her. He knew he would.

Then she turned that gaze on him, and he finally felt the fear he ought to.

In a blind rush, the lovers were kissing. Pouring everything they felt into the joining, desperate to stay connected, to escape this terrifying moment. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe he'd found her, and now he was being forced to retreat.

The guards yanked at him, compelling him onto the now-raised freezing chamber. He kept his eyes trained on her, drinking her in with all of his focus.

She took one small step forward, then—

"I love you."

Her words were strong, so sure, the woman suddenly surfaced.

"I know."

And he did. He always had. He'd just been too blind to see it.

He looked down as the little demons removed his handcuffs. Could he—?

But the floor jerked beneath him as the rapid descent started to take him down. He watched her. A light on the horizon, the only thing he'd ever done right. Then with a dawning knowing, like a sun bursting through the clouds he realized what he'd really done. He'd done the one thing he'd been trying to avoid since that day on Ord Mantell. He'd hurt her, more than any blaster, more than any Sith Lord ever could. She was broken, her heart spilling across her face like so much carnage.

If he could do it again, if he could go back to the beginning, if only he could have another chance he would—-—-—-—-—


	8. Part IV - Never Let Her Go (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review and let me know if it speaks to you!

**Part IV - Never Let Her Go**

—-—-—-—-—never let her go.

The thought completed its conclusion as the world suddenly shifted. What had been humid and melting became freezing and dry. He was on fire and falling, hitting the now earthen floor with a sickening thud.

He breathed, thoughts suddenly scattered, dispersing like so many fish in the wake of a sinking stone. What in the gods—?

His body didn't work. Nothing worked. His eyes seemed to be sealed shut, and no matter how he tried he couldn't move his limbs.

Then something was pulling him up, hands splayed across his ribs radiating pain from their insistent pressure. He was suddenly shaking, like a babe, a newborn kid, fighting desperately to open his heavy eyes.

"Just relax for a moment. You're free of the carbonite."

He had to use a hand to force his lids open. He stared forward into blackness, uncomprehending.

"You have hibernation sickness."

It was a robot voice, warped and nasal.

He tested his own, "I can't see."

"Your eyesight will return in time."

"Wh—where am I?" He could feel the panic rising, flooding his battered system with fear.

"Jabba's palace."

His breath hitched as his hand found purchase on a cold, metallic voice box.

"Who are you?"

The invisible stranger released him, stirring the silence with it's movement. He heard a hiss of fabric against skin and then a labored, clearly feminine breath.

"Someone who loves you."

_Leia._

Her hands were on him again, welcome this time, followed by her lips. It was as if they were back in that moment, only a few flicks ago, but this time they weren't being torn apart.

He reached for her, scrambling to find his balance, to hold her to him.

"I've got get you out of here," she said, already moving away, pulling him to unsteady feet.

{Hoa, hoa, hoa, hoa, hoa.}

"What's that?" he felt his new hope sag, "I know that laugh."

A bellow like a foghorn fractured the space. It was accompanied by a cacophony of voices, coming at him like a speeding train. He fought back a wave of nausea as the pressure threatened his overtaxed senses. Leia held him steady, moving her hands to match his rocking motion. The feel of her made the words start flowing.

"Hey Jabba, look Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back, and I got a little sidetracked. It's not my fault."

At least his inner scoundrel was still intact.

{It's too late for that, Solo} the big blob bellowed. Han tried to interrupt. {You may have been a good smuggler…but now you're Bantha fodder.}

The accompanying chorus let out a roar of laughter at this.

Was his life always this absurdly tragic?

"Look," he tried again.

{Take him away.}

He started yammering, desperately aware of Leia's hands slipping from his waist.

With his overly sensitized hearing, her could make out her hoarse voice hurling empty threats at the crime lord. Gods, he loved her. Even now she would fight…

But he was too far away, the guards pushing and shoving him as he stumbled along. Before he could tell up from down, he heard the jangling of ancient keys and was thrown into a foul-smelling dank space. He was aware of a puddle underfoot, now filling his boots, and a low ceiling above which he gripped onto to keep from falling.

He heard a menacing growl.

_It couldn't be._

"Chewie?"

[Han!]

"Chewie is that you? Chewie! Wait a minute—" Suddenly, Han was engulfed a big Wookie hug which didn't seem to differ much from a big Wookie throttle. His teeth knocked together as he wheezed, "I can't see, pal."

[Oh gods, you really do look older.]

"What's goin' on?"

[We came to get you out. Luke's on his way.]

"Luke?! Luke's crazy. He can't even take care of himself, much less rescue anybody."

[He's a Jedi knight.]

Chewie's gigantic paws steadied him as he reeled in surprise.

"A Jedi knight?! I'm out of it for a little while, everybody gets delusions of grandeur."

That's right. The wise-cracker, the skeptic. That was one version of himself he knew.

Chewie pulled him into gentler hug, stroking his hair like he was a pup.

"Alright pal." he was relieved to feel embarrassed. He still had some pride. "I'm alright."

[Where's Leia?] the Wookie questioned as he released him. He lead Han over to another part of the room, gently guiding him onto a cool dry jut of rock. Han could sense him coming to sit beside him.

"She's…" he felt his heart twist painfully at the thought. "She's with Jabba. Why the hell did you berks send her in there for me? That's the most dangerous place she could have been."

[What do you think?] the Wookiee jibed, but with none of his usual enthusiasm.

"She made you," Han shook his head. How did he ever think the Wookiee would be able to protect her when her stubborn recklessness was her own worst enemy?

[Weren't you glad to see her?] the Wookiee questioned.

"Of course. Of course I was." Han felt a slither of discomfort down his spine. "How long was I out?" He realized now that it had to have been some time. It certainly wasn't the second it took him to wake up in Jabba's layer.

Chewie paused, and Han felt the discomfort turn to dread.

[A year.]

He felt the ground give way and threw out a hand to stop himself from falling.

"A year?" he repeated, well and truly dumbfounded.

The Wookiee made a sound of assent even he couldn't decipher. It sounded almost like a cry.

How was it possible? He'd only blinked, not even finished a thought and he'd been here, falling into Leia's arms, kissing her eager mouth. He felt his body, running his hands up and down the length of his upper thighs, crossing his arms against the chill. He certainly felt bad enough. The last things he remembered, mere hours ago, included a severe bout of torture and enough manhandling to bruise him for days.

And then to be frozen in that stuff for an entire year? What the hell would that do to him? His first thought was atrophy. As a smuggler and a captain, he had to have a fair bit of medical knowledge. They didn't always have the time or the legal wherewithal to go to a medical station. He knew what could happen if a body was forced to be still for long periods of time.

But as he flexed his muscles and felt around, he was sure that hadn't happened. He would be emaciated, sagging, and unable to stand. He was confused, blind and sore as hell, but he wasn't incapacitated. So, the carbonite really had frozen him. Frozen him in time. He supposed that's why he felt the presence of his earlier injuries so intensely. They'd been preserved right along with him.

He suddenly felt the need to move. To prove his theory right. He lifted himself, putting out a hand to make sure his path was clear. Chewie whimpered in protest, but Han shushed him.

"Just make sure I don't fall on my face, buddy. I need to walk around."

A year. An entire year. His head hurt as he tried to contemplate the various implications of this. What could have happened in a year? The Empire could have won. Their small band could be on the run, their last desperate mission to break him out before fleeing to the ends of the universe.

Of course, he supposed Luke wouldn't have made it to the rank of Jedi Knight if things had all gone down hill. Probably would have been too busy fighting. Han wondered what had happened to his piloting. The last time he'd seen Luke, the young man had been firmly enmeshed in his new and well-earned job of Rogue Squadron Leader. What had changed?

And Leia. His heart stuttered, as it reached the real crux of his wonderings. What would Leia have done in that year? An evil thought, the kind he used to listen to, surfaced at that.

Why had it taken her a year to come find him?

He shook his head as if dislodging a biting moon fly. He had no idea how hard it had been to track him down. If he knew Boba Fett, and he knew him better than a lot of scum in the universe, the bounty hunter would have gone to great lengths to cover his tracks. He would have known he'd be pursued and done everything in his power to avoid capture.

It was clear enough that they would have had a hell of job finding him. And it was probably the last thing the Alliance would want them to do. One man versus so many million and all that rot. He wondered if that had slowed things down.

But, then he could have been out longer. He could have been out a thousand years and woken up in some other time with some other creatures, his love and his friends long lost to dust. The thought was enough to make him shudder, and he thanked the gods that they had spared him that fate. He'd rather die now, knowing that Leia might still be alive, then live on without her.

"Was she okay?" he asked, not needing to supply the Wookiee a name.

[She was much changed.] he replied, not pulling any punches.

"Right," Han said. He fought a wave of grief as he remembered the look on her face from a few mo…months ago.

[She mourned you. She had little hope as the time wore on, and we found nothing.]

He was suddenly ravenous for information, desperate to know what had happened during his time in carbonite.

"Tell me everything," he said, gesturing for the big Wookiee to bring him back to the sitting rock.

* * *

After the freezing, Luke had shown up on Bespin. Hadn't he said the kid was crazy? He'd walked right into Darth Vader's trap, but had miraculously managed to make it out alive. Chewie recounted how the Princess had insisted they go back for him, inexplicably knowing where the injured Luke would be found.

Chewie referenced this kind of thing a lot, this strange synchronicity between Luke and Leia. And as the story wore on Han started liking it less and less. He'd somehow forgotten on the slow ship to Bespin that the young man had ever harbored romantic feelings for the Princess. But, now he remembered. He remembered that when they left Hoth, Luke had still been nursing a crush that had lingered through the years, weakening but never dying. He'd hadn't acted on it though. Han reminded himself of this fact as he tried to zero back in on the story.

Luke had been injured, badly, and had been left with Leia and the Alliance to recuperate while Lando and Chewie immediately left in search of their lost comrade. Chewie assured him that Lando had redeemed himself, that they all trusted him unreservedly now. Han had his doubts. Of course he did, since, for him, the whole betrayal had happened earlier that day. This endless day. But, he had to trust Chewie about the con artist turned hero. It just might take him a while trust Lando himself.

After that, the story became a jumble of failed attempts and near misses. Just as he'd thought, the bounty hunter had given them a run for their money (or Fett's as it was), dodging them, jetting from planet to planet and throwing them enough red herrings, that before they knew it half a year had passed. This, he said, was when Leia had become truly despondent.

Shuttled between the watchful eye of Luke and Chewie as circumstances (or she) demanded, the Princess had remained determinedly optimistic, dogged in her conviction that they would find him. She continued her work with the Alliance, but remained ever ready to depart at a moment's notice. She worked her own contacts and planned her own missions, most of which were never allowed to go forward. But, when half a year had passed, and there was still no sign of him, she'd wilted, losing the enterprising energy that was so much a part of her character.

The men became worried then. The only person who seemed able to break her out of her torpor was Luke. There he was again. Han cringed and willed his jealousy away. How small of a man did he have to be to think evil thoughts about the guy who was trying to rescue him?

As Leia retreated into herself, Luke seemed to be the only one that could follow. They started training. The Princess had never been much of a fighter on the ground, preferring to support remotely from command, but she developed a growing interest in her own physical skills. Luke trained her, as he continued to hone his own teachings, and the two became nearly inseparable.

Chewie paused for a moment to explain that this was another reason they'd let Leia lead the way in to Jabba's fortress. She'd become more than capable of handling herself in a fight.

If Chewie thought this would make Han feel better, he was sorely mistaken. If there was anything he hated more than the idea of an inseparable Luke and Leia, it was the idea of her in hand to hand combat. He had nothing against women fighting. His neck had been saved and threatened by quite a few. But, he'd always taken some measure of comfort in the fact that Leia was safe on the sidelines, putting her unparalleled mind to use rather than her body in harm's way.

"So Luke and Leia are the force twins, now, huh?"

The Wookiee laughed and Han ground his teeth. His mood, which was already pretty bad, was not at all improved by this story.

[She's gifted.] the Wookiee conceded. [I wonder sometimes…]

"What?" Han said too quickly.

[Well, she knows things. Things she shouldn't know. And when she and Luke fight, they seem to be able to talk to each other. Without using words.]

Han felt a shiver of pure something at this latest revelation. He refused to put a name to it, needing to keep his head until they were out of this miserable situation.

"Alright, so how did you find me? Sounds like everyone had just about given up."

The Wookiee bleated defensively.

[We didn't give up. Nobody did. Lando knew that you'd eventually show up at Jabba's palace and Luke needed to return to Tatooine, so we set up here and waited.]

"All of you?" He was thinking only of her.

"The Princess stayed behind. She would come when we knew anything. We thought it would be safer."

Han let out a sigh of relief. At least they hadn't moved into a little sand cave for two.

It didn't take long. Lando had just enough time to infiltrate Jabba's security team before Fett showed up, obviously seizing his moment now that the rebels had seemed to stop their chase. He got his money, and Jabba hung Han from the wall, his new favorite trophy. Han hated the idea of that grease monster getting to stare gleefully at his mug everyday.

"How long was I up there? On the wall?"

[It wasn't long. A few days. Just enough time for Leia to arrive and the plan to be put in motion.]

That was something. At least he hadn't been a piece of the gangster's personal art collection for too long.

"So, Leia got here and you, what? Snuck in?"

Chewie explained the bounty hunter ploy, and Han had to laugh at the irony of it. He truly hated bounty hunters. He imagined that would be a lifelong prejudice. Chewie also mentioned the first attempt which had ended in the droids being captured as well.

"Well, that's just great. Once Luke gets here, he'll have a matched set."

Chewie remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating this.

[Luke's very skilled now. We will have to see.]

Han let out a scoff of doubt that was perhaps a bit more bitter than he intended.

"I told you. I can't see anything."

And with that he leaned back putting his head tiredly against the rock. The Wookiee shifted and Han felt a pillow of soft leather appear beneath his cheek.

[Sleep.] the Wookiee said, as gently as he could. [You'll need your strength soon enough.]

Han could only utter a wordless sound of agreement as he let the welcome oblivion overtake him.

* * *

Luke was certainly the big hero now. Despite everything being against them, he'd manage to orchestrate an almost flawless escape from Jabba's clutches. They raced across the desert, outrunning a gathering sand storm as Han tried to understand how it had all happened. One minute, they were doomed, standing out on a sand skiff about to plunge to their torturous deaths. And then all hell had broken loose. Everyone was fighting and he was just trying to get by, jabbing whatever he could at the shifting shapes in his still shrouded vision.

He couldn't believe he'd managed to get Lando out of there. It was moments like that that made him believe in some great higher power. He couldn't deny that he was thinking of trusting the guy, since he'd risked his neck to save him. Lando hit him on the back, loudly praising him to the heavens and back. Han attempted a smile (grimace) back at him, still trying to catch his breath.

"Don't know why I bothered saving your neck, but at least you still owe me one."

That was the best he could do in terms of a thank you for Lando's part in the rescue. He may be convinced by the gambler's reappearance that he'd changed, but Han still couldn't begin to shake the fury at what his recent actions had wrought.

He may be here now, by the grace of whatever, but he'd lost a year. A year, in which anything could have happened. Particularly between Leia and the new star of the show.

Where was Leia?

He pushed past Lando, still only able to see the difference between light and dark shapes. He knew he was on a tiny skiff, speeding precariously above the sands, but he needed to find her. Needed to—

"Han," her arms were around him, moving across his body, trying to find a purchase. She was trembling, shaking so badly, he found he had to help keep her standing.

"Leia, gods, Leia…" he kissed her wherever he could, her hair, her face, her neck. What he encountered there made him pause. More like freeze over.

"What is this?" his voice strained against the whipping sand.

"It's…" she shuddered, "Jabba made me a slave. That's where I was when you came in. Next to him, chained with this."

If he hadn't had to hold her up, he would have fallen over himself.

"What in the holy blazes of—Luke!"

He held her tight against him, but looked wildly over her head willing the Jedi Knight to appear.

"Yeah, Han?"

He was all energy and puffed out pride, his voice sounding ridiculously cheerful against the rushing wind.

"What the hell were you thinking, sending her in after me?" Han's voice was savage. "You might as well have put this thing on her yourself."

He gestured wildly at what he thought was her neck. He felt her stir as she heard his words.

"What…" her voice was weakened, powerless against the growing storm around them.

Luke's voice was harder, piercing through the gust.

"We made it, didn't we? Leia knew what she was getting into. And she got herself out of it. You were amazing, Leia."

Han almost growled. He could feel the rage building in his system, spiraling out of control.

"Of course she was great. She's always great. But, she shouldn't have had to be. She shouldn't have been anywhere near there."

Han knew he was being unfair. He knew his words would only upset her and Luke as well. But, he didn't care. He hated this. He hated not being able to protect her, not being able to do anything.

She must have sensed this because she reached up and ran a gentling hand down the side of his face. He almost moved away, but he found he couldn't resist her. He couldn't be separated from her even that much.

"Han, calm down. I know it's…upsetting. I'm not happy about it either," that had to be an extreme understatement. "But, you know I wasn't going to let them go in without me. Weren't you…" he almost missed her last words as they flew away with the whining wind, but he caught them at them in the last flick, "happy to see me?"

It was an echo of Chewie's sentiment that first night, and Han almost got angry again. What was with these people? Didn't they know him at all?

"Seeing you was the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said firmly, letting his higher feelings show through.

He felt her nod against him, and his heart lightened just a bit. It only now occurred to him that he hadn't seen a damn thing since the freezing chamber on Bespin. But, now was not the time to mention it.

Luke seemed to have vanished. All Han saw in front of him was a dim blur signaling the approaching sunset on Tatooine. Tired all of the sudden, he asked if there was a place to sit down. Leia lead him to what he assumed was the back of the skiff and guided him to sit against a metal surface.

"I'll be right back," she said quietly, lips brushing against his ear. He tried to reach for her, not ready to be parted for even an instant, but she was already gone faded into the blur before him.

[Are you alright?] he heard Chewie ask, sounding hesitant in a way he wasn't used to.

"I don't know, buddy. I really don't know."

Han had always prided himself of being in control of his emotions. It was a kind of requirement when you did the type of dangerous work he did. But, that outburst had overtaken him, reduced him to a human tantrum, the kind of guy he would have laughed at.

He wondered what Luke thought about this whole thing. And with a sickening feeling, he realized that's where Leia must be, talking to him. Making him feel better. Apologizing for the words of her unstable lover.

If that's what he still was…

_Stop it, Solo._

Han had a decision to make. Either he was going to let these awful feelings take over, hijack him in the in the same way that Vader had hijacked his body, or he was going to man up.

Some things were clearer than ever. He was never leaving Leia again, not as long as she would have him. He would make himself a better man for her, join her cause, play nice with the other rebels. Before the freezing chamber, he had thought his independence mattered, that being free and unencumbered was what he ultimately wanted.

He now knew that life was empty. As empty as the year he'd just spent in carbon freeze. If he wanted his life to mean something, to mean anything, he would have to commit himself to something. To someone, if he had any say in it. That's what Leia had wanted, and he was finally prepared to give it to her.

But, had her wishes changed? Had the year she spent away from him, in the company of…others changed her views? She was so young. More than ten years his junior. Maybe she hadn't know what she wanted. Maybe on the ship to Bespin, she had been overcome by her baser desires, taken along for a ride that ended abruptly when they reached Cloud City.

He hoped not. He hoped desperately, as he waited for her, that was not the case.

She reappeared, casting a shadow over his blur.

"I'm here," she said, her sultry alto thrilling the nerves that were still so sensitive.

She gripped lightly onto his shoulders as she lowered herself, about to pass over his lap on her way to the corner next to him. He put his arms around her, blocking her progress, willing her to stay where she was. She was wearing something now, the piece of fabric doing little to hide the shape of what she was dressed in. He felt his outrage rise again and had to take a couple deep breaths to keep it from springing forth.

She was sitting on his lap, leaning into his chest, head resting on his left shoulder. Turning her face into his neck, she pressed against him as if she couldn't get close enough.

"I thought I'd lost you," was her impassioned whisper.

He didn't know if she was referring to the carbonite or the execution, but he figured she probably meant it all.

"Yeah," he said, "hell of a day."

He heard her intake of breath and wondered haltingly if he had said the wrong thing.

Then she laughed. It was stifled at first, more breath than actual sound, but then it grew, turning into a full fledged chuckle.

"Gods, I've missed you," she said planting a kiss somewhere between his ear and his jaw.

They hadn't kissed since she'd freed him, and he suddenly felt like he would die if he didn't have her lips. But, she settled more comfortably against him, resting her arms on top of his, creating a tight weave around their frames. He could sense her exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness he shared. She'd been through hell too.

So he settled for kissing the top of her head and closed his eyes, hoping the Falcon was just a little farther away.

* * *

They'd parted with Luke at the ship's site. Han was ashamed of the relief that flowed through him when the Jedi announced his departure.

"I'll see you all soon," he'd said, giving Han's shoulder a brotherly squeeze.

It was obvious that he didn't hold Han's earlier behavior against him. They probably all thought he was out of his mind. And the scary thing was, he wasn't entirely sure that wasn't true. They didn't know what happened to a person coming out of carbon freeze. Maybe he would just get worse, slowly lapse into insanity until there was nothing left of him at all.

_Remember? You were gonna be positive._

He wasn't exactly positive, but he was determined. Luke's departure would allow him to clear his head (assuming the whole insanity thing didn't happen) and work on his goal. He would show her what kind of man he could be. He could be a hero, he could save the day.

And then she wouldn't let him go.

The thought was needy and a little pathetic, but he decided to give himself some slack. It had been a hell of a year.

Leia was in the shower, no doubt scrubbing herself raw in an effort to forget that newly christened lake of sand saliva. Before they'd taken off she had asked them to wait. Chewie told him that she'd gotten out of the slave get-up with a little help from Lando and a macro fuser and thrown the thing out into the sand storm.

He was relieved that it was gone, but it still made him feel like a failure. He'd stood right in front of her, heard her answer his call, and had no idea that she'd been chained to a monster.

He heard the water shut off and sat up on the bed. He'd been trying to rest, willing his mind to quiet for just a little while, but the effort had been in vain. He knew he was waiting for her, waiting to touch her again, to assure himself of her presence.

The door to the 'fresher slid open and a blast of humid heat entered the cabin. He was suddenly aware of his own filthiness. He'd been encased in carbonite, thrown into a dirty pit, manhandled by every piece of slime known to man, and that was just on this side of the freezing. He didn't even remember the last time he'd showered before then.

Leia was padding around the crew quarters, opening drawers, closing them. He wished for the hundredth time he could see her. He was dying to look at her face, to see her feminine figure. But she was still a blur, a smudge barely distinguishable from the rest of the space.

"Leia…" his voice sounded tired and reedy.

"Yes?" she paused in what she was doing, coming close enough to touch him.

There were so many things he wanted to say, promises he wanted to make, but instead he said:

"I probably need one of those too. If my nose is anything to go by."

She sighed running a hand along his hair, in one of her signature moves.

"Do you want me to show you the way?"

It was the last thing he wanted, to be dependent on her.

"I think I can manage. Lived here a long time after all."

She made a low sound of assent.

He wanted to kiss her, still having had to wait since their first moment together, but she was pulling him up to his feet, turning him with a gentle push of her hand.

"It's that way, hot shot." And then she released his arms, silently shadowing him as he walked stiffly over to the bathroom door.

What was wrong with him? Had they cut off his balls when they'd put him in that coffin?

He went about his task with savage precision, proving to himself that he could maneuver around even without his sight. He wasn't wrong. He did know the Falcon like the back of his hand. Only thing he couldn't do was fly her.

_What's a pilot without his vision?_

He shrugged off the nasty thought. It was getting better. In the two days since he woke up it had already improved markedly. He'd just feel a whole lot better when it was back in full.

He wondered if she was still in the room or had joined the crew in the common area. Lando had immediately mentioned that he wouldn't be sleeping in the crew quarters. They had a short day's journey to the Rebel Rendezvous and Han assumed he'd just slum it in the captain's chair or on the acceleration couch.

He had the brief thought that he could tell him about the sultan's couch in the cargo hold, but as the memories attached to that special place floated into his awareness, he decided it was classified informatiion.

Leia was particularly fond of that couch. He assumed it had something to do with the conversation they'd had on it their first day in space. Later in the journey, she'd made him sit on it, intent on having her wicked way with him, er hands tracing the route of his chest, while her mouth had slowly but surely tortured him with its wet, consuming heat.

He came all the sudden with a jerking, painful release. He looked sightlessly down at himself. He had never come that fast, barely even noticing that his hands had joined the memory as he relived it. He felt a flush of hot shame and agonizing frustration. Was he losing everything he liked about himself? Was he no better now than a pre-pubescent boy?

Another part urged him to calm down. His body had been away from light and noise and touch for an entire year. Those senses were probably just as overtaxed as the rest of them.

And then, he thanked whatever dirty deity had given him that erotic vision. The last thing he wanted to do was have a moment like that in bed with Leia.

He sighed, exhausted by his inner struggle. It wasn't just recent events, he'd been completely tangled up since the day he chose to stay with the Rebellion.

_But would you want it any other way?_

Maybe. Maybe if he could go back and unmeet her. Unmeet the kid. Unmeet that old Ben.

It was all his fault really, the mental and emotional trauma that Han had to constantly endure. If that old guy had never approached him, none of this would ever have happened.

And then he'd still be the loneliest schmuck in the universe.

It was an odd thought, a weird moment of total honesty, but he grabbed at it, wanting to remind himself why this was all worth it.

He toweled himself off, using the same one that Leia had left to dry. It kind of smelled like her, which also made him feel a bit better. He ran his hand through his hair and turned instinctually toward the mirror before remembering his current handicap. He did his best to finger comb, having no idea where he'd left his real one.

"Do you need me now?"

It was her voice, slightly muffled by the door, but close on the other side.

Of course he did. In every imaginable way.

"Could you just bring me some clothes?"

He breathed, waiting for her to enter the space. He felt nervous all the sudden. Unsure of what came next.

The 'fresher door opened, and he felt the soft dry fabric of a stack of folded clothes.

Leia sucked in a breath, standing still before him.

"You look awful…" she said, sorrow threatening her calm.

He half-shrugged, feeling oddly hurt by her assessment.

"Well, at least I can't see it."

She moved forward, hands running along his collarbone and down his side, tracing the damage.

"You've got a lot of heavy bruising," she said, professional voice in place, "and whatever they did…whatever Vader did left a lot of burns across your chest."

He had wondered why his skin felt so tight there. He'd almost been afraid to check.

She gently touched a burn with a finger, and he was relieved to feel very little.

"Oh, Han…" the sadness was back, and he felt like an utter fool standing naked before her.

"Hey, it'll all look better once I'm dressed," he said, sounding a lot surer than he felt.

She might have nodded and then thought better of it.

"You probably want some privacy."

Then the door was closing again, and he was left to his task. He quickly shrugged the clothes on, truly relieved to be clean and refreshed. At least he'd look closer to normal now.

He opened the door before he could think better of it and walked barefoot into the space. He didn't know where Leia'd gone and was about to call for her when she gently touched his hand.

He started, having had no idea she was behind him.

"I got some food. I figured you might not want to be with everyone right now."

She was right in that assumption. The last thing he felt like was small talk.

He squeezed her hand in thanks. "Where did you put it?"

She lead him to the bed and gently guided him into a seated position, resting his hand on a plate beside him. It was a simple assortment of cheese and fruit, and he was grateful for her choice. He didn't think he could stomach a whole lot more than that right now.

She sat at his feet while he ate, tucked between his legs like a child. She accepted a few of his offerings, but didn't seem very interested in food. He wondered if she had been eating, if Luke had made sure she—

He cut off the thought, wanting Luke to be anywhere but in their bed chamber. He focused on eating, wanting this task to be over, so he could get on to the business at hand.

Which was what exactly?

Leia took the plate when he'd finished and squirreled it away somewhere. She also made him drink some water, taking a good amount for herself. After that was done, she returned, standing just in front of him, legs barely brushing his knees.

She was shaking again, he could feel it against his legs. He reached for her, more slowly this time, deliberately wanting to feel with his hands what his eyes couldn't see. She was thin, very thin. What had been soft feminine curves when he left were now harder, leaner, flatter. He made his way to her arms finding them different too. She'd never have real muscles, but he could feel the toughness in her graceful limbs. He reached up to her face and felt a more prominent jaw line and hollow cheeks.

"Leia…" he said, having a slight feeling of de ja vu. "What have you been doing without me?"

The question was vague, spanning a year of time and a million different possibilities. She seemed to be stymied, standing in his hands, frozen like a statue.

He could hear her audibly swallow.

"I've been surviving," she said, voice rough and raw.

And then he was pulling her toward him, scooting back onto the bed, finally in control once again. She allowed him to lead her, lying down on the mattress next to him, letting him gather her up in his arms. Her trembling continued as he rubbed her shoulders, her back, crushing her close against him. They'd always been good at this, talking through touch, showing what they felt for each other in silent, heart-stopping ways. And he thanked the gods that hadn't changed.

"It was like living a nightmare," she said, voice full again, "You were there one second and then you were gone, locked in that horrible box. We tried to get you, tried to stop Fett from leaving…but it all happened so fast. And then Luke was there and we were trying to escape." She sighed raggedly, a shudder running through her.

She continued, "Were you aware? Did you…did you know?"

He knew what she was asking, and he answered her quickly.

"No. Not at all. For me, it was like nothing ever happened. I mean I felt the beginning of it I think," though even that was hazy, "but then I was thawing and falling out and you were there."

She paused, breathing in time with him.

"You mean, you saw me in Bespin, and then you immediately saw me again at Jabba's?"

He didn't bother to correct her about the whole 'seeing' thing.

"You were there. It was like I never left you."

He heard her strangled sound of pain.

"Well, isn't that…" she was struggling, "I'm glad."

She didn't sound glad. She sounded truly upset.

"It wasn't like that for you," he didn't know why he said it. They both knew it was the case.

"No…" she said, a black humor tainting her voice, "It wasn't anything like that."

"But you had Luke," he hated himself for saying it, but there it was.

"Yes," she said, not seeming to catch the dark edge of his thoughts, "Luke…helped me."

She sounded so fragile, nothing like the Leia he knew. He was sorry that he'd thought of baiting her.

"He's changed a lot," she continued. "Something happened to him at Bespin."

"Seems like there's a lot of that going around," he groused.

She laughed half-heartedly.

"Yes. He isn't the same Luke we knew. He's not a boy anymore."

Han hated where this was going, but didn't want to stop her now that she was letting it all out.

"I think something about facing Vader…" her voice trailed off, as if she couldn't put her finger on an obvious thing. She gave up. "He lost his hand, you know."

Han didn't know that. He'd seemed to be doing fine from where he was standing.

"He has a replacement. A robot hand," she supplied to his unasked question.

"Well, isn't that…nifty." His patience was wearing thin. He didn't think he could tolerate much more discussion about the Jedi.

She sighed. "I hoped you were just confused, overwhelmed on the sand skiff."

He froze, completely caught out.

"Luke is your friend. You love him," she said patiently.

"Of course he is. Didn't say he wasn't," Han tried for the shoddy defense.

"You don't have to be jealous," she soothed.

It was the worst thing she could have said. If she had avoided the subject entirely, feigned ignorance on every level it would have been better. But, she'd just acknowledged it. That he might have a reason to be jealous.

The silence stretched between them for what seemed a year and a day..

"I'll try not to be," he said, finally. Lamely.

She appeared to accept this, moving so that her face was close to his. He could almost make out her silhouette, the edges starting to sharpen into something more than a smudge.

"I love you," she said, her whole being imbuing the statement.

And then she was kissing him, soundly and insistently. Her body lay on top of his, pinning him to the mattress, a new kind of restraint. He felt a slight tide of panic pull at his consciousness but he pushed it away, unwilling to cede any of this moment to darker feelings.

Her hands were on the fastening of his pants, and she was deftly undoing the fly. He had a slight feeling of sea sickness as she desperately moved around him, shedding her own clothes and his. But then she was back, leaning over him, and lowering herself on his waiting, throbbing member.

It was heaven, pure and simple. The wet heat of her suffused him, chasing away all his doubts and darkened dreams. She was his. He could feel it as he moved with her in their secret, perfect way. She rode him, glorious in her new found strength, making little cries and mewls as he rose to meet her. She had always been somewhat timid in this position, unsure of how to pace it, but now she seemed unafraid, allowing her passion to pair with her natural grace.

It was all too much, and he tried to focus on making it last, making it to the end of her wild ride. She draped herself across his chest, latching onto his neck as if trying to suck the life out of him. He groaned, not used to her being so assertive. But he didn't hate it. In fact, he loved it. He loved her with more ferocity than he thought he ever had.

"Leia, love, gods, love you," he muttered, unable to stop the flow of words cascading from his mouth.

She rose just enough to silence him, covering his mouth with her own, kissing him with as much abandon as she'd done everything else.

She shuddered, and he felt her inner muscles clench spasmodically. He thanked the heavens that he had made it this far.

"Never…" she said, gulping in breaths as she arched against her pleasure, "Never leave me again." Her voice was strangled. By passion or pain, he didn't know. But he was chastened, and slowed just a bit.

"I…" he started, not sure how to say what he wanted to say.

She looked up at him. He couldn't make out her eyes, but he imagined they'd have a feral quality to them.

"What?" she said, daring him to defy her.

"I'm never letting you go," he said, remembering the last thought that had entered his mind before the freezing.

She sighed, the long breath washing over his face, and then laid her cheek against his chest.

He almost stopped speaking there, almost resumed their current dance.

"Unless you want me to," he added, pride and uncertainty getting the better of him.

She squeezed him with her arms and in places further down.

"I won't," she said simply.

And then she was pulling him, turning their bodies so that he was on top, wrapping her legs around his hips.

"Take me, Han."

And they were off, rutting like lava wolves, no longer able to maintain the thin veneer of society and pretty words. He claimed her in the way he couldn't in life, driving her body into the bed, spilling his seed deep within her womb, hoping and praying that he, that they, would be enough.

**Continued in Chapter 9**


	9. Part IV - Never Let Her Go (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review and let me know if it speaks to you!

The fleet they found on arrival was by far the largest Han had ever seen assembled. It reminded him of his first glimpse of the rebel forces back on Yavin IV, but this time instead of swarming creatures, it was a swarm of ships, every make and model from all corners of the galaxy. He felt a swell of hope as he looked out at them. Maybe things weren't so imbalanced after all.

Leia was sitting behind him, hand grasping his shoulder. He'd found in the last full day that she rarely wasn't touching him now, as if she needed a constant reminder of his presence. It did wonders to soothe his bruised ego, the constant touch of her fingers or brush of a limb incredibly reassuring.

After they had emerged from the sleeping chamber - hours and hours later - he had been shocked to find his vision had returned. It wasn't perfect, still a little blurry around the edges, but as they approached the rebel fleet, him in the copilots seat, Lando at the command, he felt certain he would be flying again soon.

They docked on one of the larger ships, and Han started making out some familiar faces. He hadn't realized he knew so many people. And not only knew them, but cared about them too. For the first time since his release from the carbonite, he felt the time as it had really passed. He felt like he hadn't seen these people in at least a year.

Leia was rising, eager to be out of the ship and back in her world. He guessed it was his world now too. The thought amazed him as he followed her out of the cockpit. For the first time in his life, he had a place and people he belonged to. Now, it was only up to him to make it official.

Leia turned as they waited for Lando and Chewie to join them. She pressed herself against him, slipping her arms around his waist and her head beneath his chin.

"It's going to be crazy in there. Something's about to happen. I can feel it."

He felt a slight shiver of apprehension at her words. He was used to her saying things like this (and usually being right), but he found that she'd changed her tone since Bespin. She sounded more sure in her prediction and less troubled by it.

He nodded, gently tapping his chin against her head.

"Something's always about to happen, sweetheart."

It seemed that nickname had made it through. She sighed and squeezed a bit harder.

"I'm so glad that we can face it together," she whispered. And now it was his turn to sigh.

There was no protecting her. There was no locking her away in an ivory tower. He'd fallen in love with a woman of action, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But just to be sure, he said, "There's no way you're keeping out of this thing, is there?"

She looked up at him truly surprised. "What?"

He tempered his words with a tender smile, "You're gonna want to fight, aren't you? No staying on base this time."

She held his gaze for a moment, face mysteriously clouded. And then she shook her head decisively.

"I go where you go," she said.

And then Lando and Chewie came around the corner, ready as ever to debark from the ship.

[What are you waiting for?] Chewie said.

Han released his lover and turned to the control panel.

"For you, you bit lout," he said gamely.

Chewie let out a big Wookiee laugh as he lowered hatchway, letting in the stale space station air.

"Nothing like the smell of air recyclers in the morning," Lando quipped.

And for the first time since they'd reunited, Han was glad to have his friend back. He hadn't let himself delve too far into it, but he had been truly disturbed by Calrissian's betrayal. If he hadn't had Leia, Chewie and…Luke, he would have been truly flattened by the rascal's low move. But now that a little time had passed (or a lot) - _Gods, he was sick of this -_ he could see that Lando had done the best he could with the situation he had. He'd immediately realized his error and sought to fix it.

"Don't worry, buddy," he said, letting his newfound generosity color his tone, "You get used to it."

Lando gave him a winning smile and lead the way onto the tarmac. Leia gradually let go, walking very closely to him but resisting the urge to touch. He knew she would want to maintain some professionalism in this environment. But it didn't make him miss it less.

"Solo!" General Rieekan approached, giving Leia a hug and Han a handshake. He quickly thought the better of it and pulled him in, slapping him manfully on the back.

"It's good to see you both," he said. The General rarely gave into sentimentality, but he had a way of saying a lot with a simple statement.

Han had warmed to the man over the years, and returned his greeting heartily.

Then he remembered Lando and waved the man forward.

"General, this is Lando Calrissian…"

The group shifted around him, and he realized immediately that they already knew each other.

_Remember? A YEAR._

"Right. Never mind. But, if you want the real scoop on him," he leaned forward wickedly. "You can come to me."

Lando looked a little green at this and Leia poked him in rebuke, but the General smiled and said, "I might take you up on that, Solo."

The group continued on its way, Chewie and Lando heading off to what he assumed were their usual quarters. Leia lead him along, no longer needing to be his eyes, but obviously knowing which direction they were headed.

She stopped after a lengthy walk at a small door set in a hallway lined with them. She laid her hand against the scanner and it swooshed up, rising instead of sliding to the side. It was a small room, almost like a monk's cell. The bed was a single and there were almost no personal objects except a few womanly things that told him the space was hers. She lead him in and let the door slide shut behind them.

"They'll want us for debriefing soon," she said, knowing High Command like the back of her hand.

"What are we gonna tell them?" he asked, still taking in the space.

"It's not what we tell them, it's what they tell us." The tone was back in her voice, making her less woman and more prophet.

He reached down and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her mouth. That mouth was all human. So were her cheeks and her neck and the slight dip that lead down to her—

"Han," she sighed. "We don't have time." She sounded regretful, and didn't move away, but he could feel that her mind was elsewhere.

"Alright, Princess," he said, still unable to break the habit every now and then.

He stepped back and took in the apartment again. There wasn't much to distract him.

"Is this where you…lived?" he asked.

He'd never seen her quarters before, not on any of the bases they'd been on. But he hated to think of her living in something like this. She should be surrounded by beautiful things.

She shrugged as if she hadn't noticed where they were.

"It's what they had available. I only slept here," she said. He could hear the unspoken ending to that statement.

_Alone._

"Well," he said still displeased, "we could sleep on the Falcon."

She smiled gently at him.

"If we have time to sleep," she said, without any kind of double meaning.

"You think they'll send us out that fast?" he said.

"I don't know," she replied, turning toward a little cupboard he hadn't noticed before.

She reached into it and pulled out some clothes. They were Alliance issue, the plain jane uniforms he'd grown used to seeing on her. She started changing in front of him, obviously feeling no compunction on that account. He tried to be as evolved as she was, but he could feel his excitement rising the more he tried to tamp it down.

They had their whole lives together. Well, as long as they didn't become Empire bait. But, he was now free to make the promises he couldn't before. No more Jabba, no more bounty hunters, no more smuggling. He hadn't realized he was so eager to leave it all behind. But, he was. He wanted to live with her in the light, no more hiding from anything or anybody.

She turned to him and caught him looking, wiggling a little in a teasing way.

"You're incorrigible," she said, loving it even as she lobbed the insult.

He laughed, imagining she'd be shocked by the actual bent of his thoughts.

"Can't keep a good man down," he said. And he was about to make good on that threat when a knock sounded at the door.

"Princess Leia?" It was General Rieeken. Han frowned in confusion. Usually people would use a comlink or a datapad to summon a comrade. But, the General was making a personal appearance.

Leia hurried up her dressing, looking at him questioningly. She was just as much in the dark as he was.

She palmed the door open and stepped into the corridor. Han followed, certainly not staying in the little room by himself.

The General apologized for the intrusion, and said he was looking for Captain Solo.

They hadn't expected to be separated so soon. Han could feel Leia's discomfort as they took this in.

But she rallied herself, always a professional. "Of course. Han, you go with him. I…I should probably go check in with weapons." He now remembered the small armory the group had carried with them to Tatooine. He supposed those would have to be returned.

He gave her hand a tight squeeze, protocol be damned, and gestured for Rieeken to lead the way on.

The General made some attempt at small talk as they made there way to a briefing room. But neither man was very good at it, so they eventually lapsed into silence. Han had no idea what was going on, but he found he didn't resent the opportunity to talk with the man. There were things he wanted to discuss.

They made it to their destination, and the General ushered him in. He waved Han over to a holo-projector and keyed in a code. What appeared almost knocked Han off his feet.

"Is that—?"

"A Death Star," the General confirmed.

Han felt like he was going to be sick. He was just managing to get the first one out of his nightmares.

"Tell me this is just a walk down memory lane," he said half jokingly, half pleadingly.

The General shook his head grimly.

"I wish it was. The Empire is partway through construction on a second, more powerful version."

Han took in the display, "Looks like more than just a part."

The thing was in every way a death star. There was a missing bit here and there, but it looked pretty close to complete.

"How long have you known about this?" he asked, feeling the first licks of suspicion.

"Not long," the General assured him. "The Empire has gone to great lengths to hide its existence. For the obvious reasons."

Han shook his head, amazed again at the accuracy of his lover's recent prediction.

"So, what are we gonna do? Blow it up?" he asked, switching into action mode.

"Eventually," said the General, "but it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Isn't it always?" Han replied.

"There is an energy field that protects it." He hit a couple buttons and zoomed out to show a large planet dwarfing the ball of destruction. "This is Endor. It's a planet-like moon where the Empire has built a forcefield generator. We have to assemble two teams for this mission. One will deactivate the forcefield from the ground, and the other will follow with an attack on the Star itself."

Han let out a long breath. He had a bad feeling about this.

"And you want me to help," he said.

"Solo, I want you to lead," the General said decisively.

"Which one?" Han said.

"Either," Rieekan replied. "There isn't anybody better equipped in skill and temperament. The rebels trust you, they like you, they'll follow you anywhere."

Han was taken aback at this. Since when was he Mr. Popularity?

He shook his head, tabling that thought for another time.

"Which one is more dangerous?" He was thinking of Leia and her promise (or threat) to follow him anywhere.

"It's hard to say," the General replied seeming to understand his rationale. "On the moon, you'll have the element of surprise. But, you'll also be a bit out of your element."

Han nodded, thinking hard about the two options. On the one hand, the General was right - he was better in the sky. But on the other, he imagined the odds would be stacked much less against them on the moon rather than right around the Death Star. The ships would have to be close by, holding within range of the star fleet, to make their attack when the shield came down. And he could never stand to wait.

"I'll take the moon," he said, refusing to rethink his choice.

The General grinned at him. Maybe he hadn't expected such an easy sell.

"And you'll also take a commission," he said, brooking no refusal.

"Yes, I'll take a commission," Han said, hating it less than he thought he would.

"I'm promoting you to the rank of General," Rieekan said, shocking Han with the offer. He hadn't expected to move up quite so fast. "It's a serious job. It requires a serious title."

If the General was a winking man, Han thought he would have chosen to do it then.

"Now all that's left is to find the other team leader," he said. Han thought that was quite the understatement, but appreciated the man's optimism none the less.

"Don't you have someone? From High Command?" Han asked.

"We've suffered a lot of casualties since you went missing," Rieekan replied, regret clear on his features. "This is dangerous work, and it takes a certain kind of character to do it."

Han didn't like where his thoughts were heading. This was all reversing too fast. But his mouth was already moving.

"Have you asked Lando?"

"I had thought of Mr. Calrissian," the General replied. "But you told me you would brief me as to his character."

Han felt himself at a crossroads. He could let the bitterness of the past win out or…

"He's a good fighter. A real friend," he said, not believing his own conviction. "He's made mistakes - we all have - but he's put them right. And he definitely feels he has something to prove. No one will fight harder. Or want to stick it to the Empire more," he added with a bit of his old flair.

"Does he have any battle experience?" the General asked. Han was surprised they hadn't already covered this.

"Yeah," he said rifling through his memory, "he did this crazy thing…"

By the time they exited the briefing room, Han was practically buzzing with the energy of change and approaching battle. He had to find Leia, he had to tell her what was happening…

* * *

The shift in the space station was palpable, even to him. There was a meeting called in a few short minutes with all the big wigs, and he had yet to tell Leia what had come to pass. He'd looked for the woman everywhere, but couldn't find her for the life of him.

The General had continued to fill him in on the details of the mission, giving him a roster of his team, and an outline of the preparation that would be required. After the meeting, they would get to work, straight away, gearing up to leave as soon as possible.

He found Chewie back at the ship, looking satiated and happy. He must have spent most of the morning filling his gigantic stomach. He was tinkering with the Falcon, and Han was surprised that it hadn't occurred to him that his ship might need some tending too.

Was this what real life did to a guy?

He ran his hand along the underbelly of the ship and pondered her fate. Would he take her to Endor? She'd much prefer being in the action to waiting on the sidelines. Sort of like his other mistress.

His mind caught on that, and he found he didn't like it. Not one bit. Leia was anything but his mistress. He wanted everyone to know that. He wanted her to know that. And suddenly, with the same swiftness as everything else had happened during this crazy day, he knew what he had to do. He had to make it official, just like his new rank and his upcoming mission. He'd find her a ring, get down on one knee…

"Han ol' buddy!" He started at the voice, like he was encountering a ghost from the past. He turned and caught sight of Luke, walking purposely toward him. The kid was back already?

"Luke," he said, trying to sound cheered by his sudden appearance.

"Where's Leia?" Luke said as he came to a stop.

"I don't know, kid. Was trying to figure that out myself," he ground out the words, placid mask still in place.

"Things seem a little crazy around here," Luke continued, oblivious as ever. Or choosing to be at least.

Han almost told him about his mission, almost asked him to come along. Before a few days ago, he wouldn't have dreamed of heading out on a dangerous mission without his good friend. But that was then, more than a year ago, and he decided that he wasn't sure now if he wanted him along.

"Yeah, things are cranking up…" he said vaguely.

An announcement for the meeting echoed through the hangar. Luke perked up at this, seeming to remember something.

"I have to go, Han. I'll see you at the meeting." And then he was gone, blending into the milling rebel pilots and mechanics.

Han's good mood faltered as he thought about this new complication. He hadn't realized he was in a good mood until now. Turns out responsibility wasn't so bad after all.

He called for the Wookiee and made his way to the meeting. He hadn't had the chance to tell Chewie about the mission either and didn't attempt to do so over the loud clash of voices. The Wookiee wouldn't care. Han knew without asking that'd he come along.

The conference room was full to the brim, and he looked again for Leia certain she'd already be there. What he found instead was an all but preening Lando, fully decked out in the regalia of a Rebel General. Han couldn't help but smirk at the difference between the two friends.

"Well, look at you, a General huh?" Han said, approaching him.

"Someone must have told them about my little maneuver at the Battle of Tanaab," Lando looked almost bashful.

"Well, don't look at me, pal. I just said you were a fair pilot. I didn't know they were looking for someone to lead this crazy attack," Han sincerely enjoyed toying with him.

_Guess your still a scoundrel after all._

"I'm surprised they didn't ask you to do it," Lando continued, undeterred by Han's attempt at banter.

Han was oddly touched by this, but kept to his game. "Well, who says they didn't, but I'm not crazy. You're the respectful one, remember?"

Lando smiled fully, still somewhat resembling a fox. But a fox who was in their hole now. He bowed slightly to someone behind Han's shoulder, and he caught the scent of Leia as she claimed the seat next to him. Where had she come from?

The meeting was starting now and a short-haired woman in flowing robes started doing the talking. He was remembering the first meeting he'd attended about another Death Star so many years and one small woman ago. He was glad that Leia had shed her robes and joined the human race. He much preferred her in rebel fatigues than in political drapes.

It wasn't anything he hadn't heard already, but he listened just the same. If he was going in there with people's lives on his hands, he couldn't afford to miss any piece of vital information. But he was still aware of Leia, the way he always was these days. Would she be understanding or upset when she heard about the mission?

At the first mention of Death Star he looked over at her, a bit worried about her reaction to this revelation. He knew his nightmares had nothing on hers. She was looking straight forward, stone-faced, no doubt remembering the first battle station and the destruction it had wrought.

When they got to his part, he felt the seriousness of the task at hand settle into his bones like dampness on a rain-soaked planet. This was real life now - real time - and he knew he couldn't mess it up.

But he still managed a last bit of fun with Lando as Admiral Ackbar announced his part in the big attack.

"Good luck," he jibed, "your gonna need it."

And then General Nadine was speaking and he knew it was his cue. The jig was up.

"We have stolen a small Imperial shuttle. Disguised as a cargo ship, and using a secret Imperial code, a strike team will land on the moon and deactivate the shield generator."

"Wonder who they found to pull that off," Leia said under her breath.

He turned to her, then—

"General Solo, is your strike team assembled?"

Leia looked at him in shock, the full power of her disbelieving gaze focused on his response.

"Uh, my team's ready. I don't have a command crew for the shuttle."

[You have one!] Chewie said.

"It's gonna be rough pal, I didn't want to speak for you."

[Shut up, you old #$&!]

Han couldn't help but smile, "That's one!"

"General," he almost didn't realize Leia was speaking to him, "count me in."

She was happy, glowing. Proud.

_Thank the gods for small miracles._

As they shared a smile, he could have sworn he felt the Force at work. At last, his life was falling into place.

"I'm with you too!"

And the feeling evaporated in an instant. Luke descended the stairs - the prodigal son returned. Then he was hugging Leia like she was his long lost sister.

_Better sister than lover_ , Han thought acidly.

"Luke," he greeted, completely outmaneuvered.

But Leia looked so happy. She took in their little group with a deep satisfaction as if she finally had her whole family back.

Well, he supposed she did. Though who was occupying which spot was the question that sat like lead in his stomach. Or maybe that was the upcoming battle for Alliance and Galaxy. Who could tell anymore?

**To Be Continued**


	10. Part IV - Never Let Her Go (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! Please review and let me know if it speaks to you!
> 
> Note: This is the end of Volume I. Volumes II and III are about the decades before and the time during The Force Awakens. You can stop here and imagine any kind of happy ending you want for our favorite space couple or you can continue with me on my angsty yet still romantic journey. Thanks for reading!

 

Hadn't he chosen this mission so he _wouldn't_ be stuck waiting?

Things had been going pretty well. He might have even said he was a natural at this. They had landed on the moon, debarked from the ship, and tromped through the forest, making good time to their destination. And then all hell broke loose. They'd come upon a couple rangers and before he knew it, Leia and Luke had hitched a ride on a speeder in hot pursuit of two others.

There was still no sign of them. And as he waited, he mulled over his options.

Which one would he kill first, him or her?

He should have rethought having two such personal connections on his team. It was near impossible for him to put them out of his head and focus on the rest of the troops standing by. It also didn't help matters that they'd gone off together, but he was valiantly trying to ignore that.

All mission, he had felt like a child jostling for its mother's attention. When he wasn't being a big time manly general, that is. Luke had returned with an oddly proprietary air towards Leia. And Han couldn't fail to notice it, no matter how hard he tried. It was just a guy thing. He could tell.

"Someone's coming," they immediately dropped to attention waiting to see if it was friend or foe.

When he saw the kid, Han's heart leapt into his throat.

"Luke!"

He'd decided on hugging rather than killing just as he registered a distinct lack of female conspirator.

"Where's Leia?"

Luke looked around, breathless as if from a run. "What? She didn't come back?"

Han's voice dropped to dangerous decibels.

"I thought she was with you."

"We got separated!" he said peevishly.

Han tuned him out not having time to argue.

"Take the squad ahead. We'll meet at the shield generator at O-300."

They combed the forest, only shouting or speaking to each other when they found some piece of her trail. Chewie proved to be extremely helpful as he traced her with his Wookiee smell.

Han felt the dread get heavier and heavier as they ventured deeper into the forest. What had she been thinking? How would she possibly know how to ride one of those things?

He pumped the kid for information, but Luke said he lost her early on. He did add that she was amazingly adept at navigating a speeder for having never tried it before.

"She'd be quite the pilot," Luke mused. Han had to swallow his retort. It didn't matter. What mattered was finding her.

His bad feeling got worse when he spotted the first bits of metal. He picked up the pace, following the blast path to the site of a wreckage.

"Luke! Luke!" He suddenly needed his friend - to talk him down, to prove him wrong.

He heard a twig snap and looked up to see the Jedi reappear.

"Oh, Master Luke," the robot said mournfully.

Chewie whimpered along with the sentiment.

"There's two more wrecked speeders back there." He lowered his eyes as if in shame. "I found this."

He tossed the helmet to Han. The thing was emblazoned with Leia's chosen symbols. Han had the dizzy feeling he was at a funeral, holding the last remains.

"I'm afraid that Artoo's censors can find no trace of the Princess," Threepio added, unhelpful as ever.

"I hope she's alright." It was the least he could say, but it was all he could manage, as he tried to process the weight in his hands.

Luke looked oddly pensive as Chewie perked up, on the scent again.

Han's heartbeat quickened. It had to be her.

"What, Chewie? What, Chewie?!"

Instead he lead them to what was disappointingly a hanging animal carcass.

Han deflated, truly perplexed. "Hey, I don't get it. I mean, it's just a dead animal Chewie."

"Chewie, wait, wait! Don't!" Luke's frantic yell was cut off by the revelation of the meat's true purpose. They suddenly hung, spinning and suspended from a trapper's net.

_Well, this day couldn't get any worse._

* * *

It got worse.

Then it got better.

And then it got a whole lot worse.

The spacer had been through a lot of things in his life, found himself in a lot of bad situations. But he could truly say he had never been hanging above a fire about to be roasted for a banquet. It was original, to say the least. As was their furry little captors' assumption of Threepio as their god.

Yeah, he was about to be dead meat, but at least that meant Luke would be too.

"This is all your fault," Han had hissed as the little monkeys started pushing them along. He still didn't know whether to be amused or intimidated by all their sharp sticks. As he felt one stab his rear end, he decided to go with seriously pissed off.

"And how is that?" Luke asked, in that annoyingly calm voice he'd adopted these days.

"If you hadn't gone off with Leia—"

"She got on that speeder," Luke's voice filtered back from a few steps ahead. "If I hadn't followed she'd probably be dead."

"And who says she isn't?" He got another sharp jab and lowered his voice. "That speeder…"

Luke looked back at him over his shoulder and must have seen something redeeming because his voice softened just a bit. "She's not."

Han stared at him, then stumbled over a rough patch on the forest floor. The little things rushed forward, snarling as he raised his hands in a sign of cooperation. Didn't stop them from sticking him a few more times.

"How do you know that?"

He hated the hope in his voice. How the hell would Luke know anything more than he did?

"Just trust me," Luke said with that penetrating calm.

Before he took another step, Han grabbed the back of his shirt and whirled him around.

"I said," he growled, "How do you know that?"

The monkeys weren't happy now, yelping and scratching at them, but Han couldn't care less. Luke's face remained stoic, but Han could see the slight twitch of aggression at the corner of his eye.

"I can feel her," he finally said. "If she was dead, I would know."

The sweet relief of his words immediately turned sour at their implication.

"What do you—AGH!"

Han saw stars, stumbling forward into the Jedi as a rock smashed into his skull. His weight proved too much, and the two men were suddenly on the ground in a tangle of limbs. Then the blasted creatures were running all over, pounding them with there solid little feet, and wrapping their limbs with scratchy lengths of rope.

By the time they were done, he, Luke and Chewie were hanging from long poles and the droid was puttering around moaning about how appalled he was.

As they'd started marching again, Han had battled with himself. What the Kest had Luke meant back there? Memories of that first night with Chewie back in Jabba's layer assaulted him. He'd said Luke and Leia could talk to each other, somehow communicate without words.

Han hadn't put much stock in that, never really believing in things beyond his ken. But Luke had seemed so sure…and if Luke could feel Leia, did that mean she could feel him too?

He tried to pry his hands out of the ropes if only to wrap them around the Jedi's throat. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt such fierce jealousy in his life. But the more he tried to free himself, the more hard stabs he got. When one of the monkeys held a bone knife to his throat, he finally gave up.

Luke only said one thing during that endless march, muffled by the forest but burned into his skull nonetheless.

"She's getting closer."

And even though he didn't want to believe him, Han couldn't help repeating that statement over and over in his mind. He still did it even as he glanced nervously down at the firewood beneath him.

"Leia!" Luke's voice penetrated his strange musings.

He craned his neck in surprise, alerted to her position by the little creatures' movement. And even though he was practically upside down, it felt as if the world had righted itself once again.

She was breathtaking, beautiful, like an angel amidst the unexpected setting. Her hair was down and brushed out in a style he'd never seen before. He had to reassess his opinion of the little mongrels. They certainly seemed to have taken care of her.

He took it back as they jabbed their spears in her face.

"But these are my friends!" she said, speaking slowly to be understood. They went back to jabbing at him now, and he looked at her pleadingly. If he got out of here, he was breaking every single one of those sticks.

She changed tactics. "Threepio, tell them! They must be set free!"

The negotiation continued, but things were only getting worse. By the time Luke joined in, he was really starting to get nervous. He couldn't possibly die this way. Give him a Death Star, or one of those light things, but not this.

Then suddenly the air was filled with terrified yelps and…a flying droid? Golden Rod floated above the camp in his chair, sputtering in terror along with everyone else. It took Han a couple confused flicks to realize how it was happening.

Luke.

When had the kid gotten so powerful? It would have been funny, if it wasn't so terrifying.

But the thought was chased away, as Leia moved toward him through the throng of frightened bodies. They finally untied him, and he was rushing toward her, swinging her around in his enthusiasm. They're kisses where quick, but life affirming. She was here, alive and well, just like Luke said she'd be.

As the Jedi joined them, Han couldn't help feeling a lot more generous towards his old friend. But even as he smiled at them both, he felt a seed of doubt sprout somewhere in his gut. Luke had changed. If he could pull at trick like that, there was no telling what else he might be able to do. Especially when it came to the woman standing between them.

* * *

The fur-balls seemed truly interested in them now, in an decidedly less culinary sort of way. The little monkeys eventually herded them into the great room Leia had come out of. The meal they passed around was mostly vegetables and mushrooms (their meat course having turned into honored guests), but it did the job. They had bowls of tree-nuts lying around and a few pipes which wafted an herbal, heady smoke. It had been a longtime since Han had indulged in any mind altering compounds, and he wasn't at all sorry to have something to calm his nerves.

They had to be gracious guests, after all.

But the smoke wasn't quite what he expected and instead of calming him, it made him a little jumpy. A slight feeling of paranoia seeped into his consciousness. He felt even more on edge as he thought of the day awaiting them tomorrow. Leia took a small bit, but he could see that she didn't inhale. Always the smart one, his lover.

She was glued to his side again, and that's exactly where he wanted her to be. Luke was off prompting the droid-cum-god to translate for them as Han allowed himself to indulge in her nearness. And maybe show off that nearness. Just a bit.

He slipped his arm around her, exploring the rustic dress she wore. It was sexy. Oddly so. Glancing down, he could see the hint of her breasts, peeking through the ties that laced across the top of her outfit. He couldn't wait to take it off. The need to have her again, to feel himself explode within her, was almost overpowering.

The droid spoke, calling everyone in the hut to attention. Han turned his focus back to the situation at hand, reluctantly removing his arm so he wouldn't be tempted anymore than he already was.

He only understood a few words, mostly proper names and the sounds the droid played to sweeten their story. But, he'd lived it so it wasn't too hard to get the gist. When the droid came to the part about him and the carbonite, he couldn't help the bit of unease that crept back into his stomach. Leia seemed triggered by it too, nestling closer and wrapping her arms around his.

It was still so hard to imagine that she hadn't done that in a year. To him, it was all so recent, their love still so new. His head had been filled with her for so long that it was still a wonder to have her in his arms. Even as he reveled in this, he resisted the knowledge of her year alone. The Leia he'd left had just discovered what love felt like. And then to be cut off from it so cruelly. She'd have been so lonely…so…

He glanced over at Luke. If he could really sense her, the way he said, the Jedi might have felt those things too. And Luke would do anything to protect her. It was the biggest thing the two men shared.

When it was decided that they would join the tribe (fickle little bastards), the little monkeys started climbing all over him. At least they broke him out of the brooding. He attempted to be gracious, but quickly found an excuse to get out of dodge. After a quick comedy routine with the droid, he got his assurances that the little critters would back up their friendly words with action. They needed weapons, intel, and good soldiers.

Leia was gone when he turned back. He looked around the room, confused by the tumble of jumping bodies. Gods, these things had a lot of energy. Then he noticed with a sinking feeling that Luke wasn't around either. He closed his eyes, not wanting the darkness overtake him. They'd just been saved, reunited, and allied. Even if it was with a group of questionable tree monkeys. He didn't want to let jealousy ruin this night, especially if it might be his last.

He waited for her, willing himself to trust that she would return in time. He talked to Chewie, going over some of the tactical things they would have to account for now that their numbers had grown. But she still didn't return. And neither did Luke.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Telling himself he was going out for a breath of air, he left the lively hut. It was a quiet scene outside. As his ears adjusted to the new level, he noticed that it wasn't quiet at all but rather pulsing with the organic hum of a living forest. Why was he always saying he hated planet life?

If he hadn't been minus one Leia, he would have declared this a pretty romantic spot. He would have nuzzled her neck and held her from behind, humming softly along with the night's music. But, she wasn't here. She was somewhere out there with Luke. He knew it in his bones.

He started walking, following the hollow feeling into the darkness of the Endor night. Finally, he turned a corner and saw them. They were parting like lovers, and he felt a part of him shrivel up and drop to the forest floor like a piece of dried bark.

Leia was alone now, and because he was a glutton for punishment and absolute idiot, he approached her.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" His voice was cheerful, uncaring.

_Keep it up, buddy._

"Nothing," she said swiftly, turning away from him, "I just want to be alone for a little while."

"Nothing!" he repeated doubtfully. She had never been one to mince words with him before. And she looked truly upset. Maybe there was something really wrong.

"Come on, tell me, what's going on?"

She struggled, looking at him full on. He could see it in her expression. She wanted to confide in him, like they had taken to doing so often, but…

"I—I can't tell you."

Her admission finally sparked off the powder keg inside him.

"Could you tell Luke? Is that who you could tell?"

He wanted her to correct him, to say he was a moron.

But she whirled away, releasing an unintelligible sound of anguish out into the night.

So, he did what he always did when things got hard. He gave into anger, stalking off with a dismissive growl. But then he stopped. He had made her a promise. And himself. If he wasn't letting her go, then where was he going?

He made himself turn back and glide bravely forward, like a skater on thin ice.

"I'm sorry," he offered, feeling absurdly like a martyr as he waited for her response.

After a moment of fraught silence, she thew herself forward with a simple, "Hold me."

He felt like a prize fool as he answered her embrace with one of his own. He tried to form the question that would decide things either way. But, fear sealed his lips. Maybe he didn't want to know at all.

* * *

They made their way back to the party, having no where else to go. Han tried to summon the same feeling of relief he'd had when Luke had left them on Tatooine, but it was futile. He could feel her focus. It was all with the young Jedi, who'd vanished into the night without any explanation. Han should be angry. After all, he was the commander of this strike team. Luke was his subordinate and hadn't asked to leave. But, he didn't have the will to stoke that fire.

All he could think of was Leia. Leia, whose happy mood from so many minutes ago had vanished. Leia who looked around the party like she was watching a feast full of ghosts. He wasn't used to this kind of Leia. Sure, she could be all over the map. But usually he could follow. Now she was somewhere else: some deep, hidden place he had no idea how to get to.

The droid approached them and Han almost shut him off. This was the last thing they needed right now.

"General Solo, Princess Leia! Our gracious hosts have offered us accommodation for the night. They will be leading a party to the sleeping huts at any moment," he sounded overjoyed with himself and the whole situation. Han had to hand it to him for once. They certainly didn't want to be here right now.

They waited a few minutes more for the sleeping party to assemble. He made his way to Chewie who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the raucous atmosphere.

"Hey pal, we're heading out. Early morning tomorrow."

Chewie asked if he should come, but Han gestured him back with more enthusiasm than he felt.

"Have your fun. Just remember you gotta show up damn early."

Chewie grunted and turned away, already heading back into the fray.

He felt a hand take his and found Leia at his side once more. She was still far away, but she leaned against him as if soaking up energy from his presence. He was so confused, so twisted. One moment he thought she was lost to him and another things felt just as they should be.

Before he could follow that path where it would lead, the elders called for silence and announced the commencement of the sleeping march. At least that's what the droid told them. They followed, buoyed along like so much flotsam, having no idea where the hanging paths would take them. Eventually they were pushed, and not over gently, into a little room that had just enough space for one floor level bed.

Han poked at it with his boot, hearing a crackle that made him think it must be stuffed with moss or pine needles. Leia stood beside him, still silent, watching as he lowed himself onto their bed for the night. It wasn't comfortable but it wasn't a hard floor either. He supposed he should be grateful for that.

She considered the bed, but then turned away, inching toward the one little window in the snug room. She looked out at the stars, visible between patches of trees.

Then she finally spoke:

"Do you think I could turn?"

If he had to guess any question, it would have taken him a million years to come up with that.

"Turn into what?" he asked, his joke reflex ever ready.

She didn't reply, still meditating on the stars.

"There's a darkness in me," she said very carefully, like she was charming a snake that had crossed her path. "I've felt it since Alderaan." He didn't know where she was going with this, but he listened intently, suddenly sure it was important. "It was part of why I worked so hard - all the time - to keep it away."

She didn't usually speak so candidly, and he could hear the otherworldly voice taking over as she continued.

"But when you…left, it was harder to ignore. I could feel it taking over, fighting for control. I was so angry, so lost. And I didn't have anybody I could confide in."

He wanted to argue, certainly one name came to mind, but he held his tongue. He would wait.

"Luke struggled with it too. We were each dealing with our own problems, our own…demons. He pulled out of it first just as I sank deeper. I had to shut off, retreat, or I knew I was going to do something…bad."

She sounded surprised by the word and shaken. He was shaken too. Leia had always been such a pillar of virtue, a ray of light, so much better than any of the sorry scum around her. It shook him to the core to hear her talk this way.

"That's when Luke came to me. He could sense it. He could tell. And he fought with me, fought for me. We started training. When we were sparring, I could let it all go, the dark and the light and just be here, be in the present. That's what brought me back."

She was still looking out the window, but her body torqued ever so slight towards him.

"Towards the end of the year, I found myself thanking the gods that you hadn't come back sooner, that you hadn't seen me that way. It would have scared you."

"Nothing about you would scare me, Leia."

She finally turned, her face shrouded in shadow.

"You don't know that," she said, her voice small and still.

"I do," he replied, letting his love for her flood through him once more.

She sighed a pained little sound and turned back to the sky.

"I can feel him," she breathed, a shudder running through her. "Luke shouldn't have told me."

He didn't have any protections, his old shields thrown away long ago. The pain that hit him was overwhelming and deadly. She was thinking of _him_ even as he laid his heart at her feet.

He waited for the anger, his old friend, that aggressive energy that always had his back. But it didn't come. Not in light of this revelation. Luke had saved her, brought her back from a place she never wanted to go again. He couldn't hate him. How could he, when it was his love that Luke had set free?

And the truth was he loved Luke too, despite all the turmoil of the last week. He'd gone back as much for him as he had for Leia that first time. He'd never had a brother. Though his relationship with Chewie was strong, they were colleagues, mates, equals. But Luke had needed a mentor, a protector as he was thrust into the big wide world. And once Han had returned from that first Death Star, he'd accidentally become that.

So if the anger didn't come, all he was left with was this love. This twin love for his two closest friends. And if that was what he had, how could he wish them unhappy?

Leia had remained mute through all of this, still with her thoughts and the stars.

He needed to touch her, needed to have one more night in her arms. Han had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but he had lost his inner battle. His ego couldn't win out over the love he felt for these two people.

So, he would hold her tonight and take from her the strength to do the right thing. But not just yet, tomorrow he could break another promise, tomorrow he could let her go. Tonight he would love her with all the fierceness he felt. At least he would leave her with that.

"Come here, dove," he whispered, not knowing where the name had come from.

It seemed to work though, calling her back from her perch above the trees.

She lowered herself to the bed and let him pull her in, coming to rest with her legs around his hips. They were sitting as close as two people can, his back resting against the fragrant piney wall of the hut, her chest pressed against his.

They breathed in time for a little while. It was one of his favorite things, and he could feel the grief ball up inside his throat at the thought of losing it. But, he forced it down, intent on staying here with her in this moment.

"You are the brightest light I have ever seen," he said to her, not knowing where the words flowed from. "I've been around this whole galaxy. I've seen a lot of things. But none of them compare to you."

She seemed to bask in his words, her hands coming to stroke his hair, encouraging him to keep going.

"But just like in space, for the light to shine through, there's gotta be some darkness. A whole lot of it in fact."

She smiled a little, appreciating his pirate wisdom.

"You just gotta accept that. And shine on anyway."

Her breath hitched a little as he finished, and he hoped to the gods she didn't cry. He couldn't bear her tears, and he didn't know if he had the strength to face them right now.

"What if I can't?" she asked, a little girl again.

"Don't give me that," he found his humor - the best antidote for her tears, "I know you too well."

She laughed now, lightly but with real warmth.

"You're too damn stubborn to turn. You'd drive them crazy before they even came close."

He didn't know who he was talking about exactly, but this made her laugh again, really laugh this time. She burrowed her head into his shoulder and shook a little from mirth rather than fear.

"Now I know why I love you," she said.

He winced a little at that, but kept to his current game. "Now you know? You didn't before?"

He could feel her lips quirk against his shoulder.

"It's a constant mystery, Solo. But I keep picking up on clues."

It was his turn to laugh, albeit weakly.

"Well, you'll have to tell me if you ever figure it out."

She shook her head.

"Some things are supposed to remain a mystery." And then, "Do you know why you love me?"

He considered that, trying to think past the physical sensations of the moment and onto higher things.

"You're pausing too long," she said, teeth pressing against his neck.

He sighed. "I love everything about you," he said simply.

She nipped him now. "No you don't. You couldn't possibly."

He hoisted her up a bit, keeping her mouth away from striking distance.

She frowned almost playfully at him, the drama of the evening banished for the moment.

"My stubbornness."

"Commitment."

"Recklessness."

"Bravery."

"The way I always scold you," she seemed genuinely worried about this one.

"I usually deserve it," he replied.

"That weird birthmark on my back," she challenged.

"It's how I know I'm bedding the right woman."

She swatted him, but was smiling all the same.

"I'll find you out one of these days, Captain. You can't be this good," she said, giving up for the moment.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, wondering if it were true.

She was looking down at him, breath coming a little more deeply now.

He felt her move against him, settle herself more snugly, a lock against a key.

"I don't know how I lived without this," she breathed.

The words were balm to his heart and he felt them ease his wound.

"Well, you don't have to anymore." _Unless you want to._

She moved against him again, arching back a little at the pleasure of the sensation.

He tugged at the strings of her dress, wondering how far he could get without releasing her. But then she reached down and hiked the skirt over her hips, revealing a lack of anything else underneath.

He wanted her desperately now, was reaching down to his pants, trying to undo them with clumsy fingers. She moved them aside and took on the work while he explored her silken center. If he had known she was bare the whole night, he would have snuck off with her long ago.

_And maybe avoided that scene…_

But the fleeting regret was chased away, as she succeeded in releasing him. She adjusted herself, bringing her knees briefly under her, so she could join them in the way they both craved.

They each had things they wanted to forget, as their frenzied coupling commenced. He let himself be carried off, his conscious mind only focused on the incredible sensations her body created.

They kissed as they rocked, moaning and growling into each other's mouths, normal words incapable of expressing what they wanted to say. He wished they'd taken off their clothes, needing to feel every inch of her against his skin, but it was too late. There was no going back now.

He waited for her, reaching down to help her along, keeping time with their rhythm as his thumb gently stroked her. She cried out, forgetting to stifle herself as her orgasm came swift and strong. He picked up the pace as much as he could at this awkward angle and mouthed her name as he released himself into her, falling over the edge into that endless abyss.

They remained this way for some time, neither willing to break the contact. He could feel the drowsiness overtake him and from her tired weight against his shoulder, he could tell she was feeling it too. But he didn't want to leave. Not her warmth or her person.

Finally out of sheer exhaustion, they levered themselves into a sleeping position, only breaking apart long enough to find their way under the rough wool blanket. He held her against him, her back to his front, feeling almost as if they were one person. He forgot where she ended and he began. They didn't have long to sleep. He could feel dawn approaching, a little surprised at his latent land instincts. But he fell asleep anyway, needing to rest before they fought another battle tomorrow.

* * *

The Battle of Endor turned out to be a fair bit easier to win than the battle for Leia's love. He felt ridiculous even thinking about it that way, but he'd always been better in a life or death situation than in matters of the heart.

They were finished now, rounding up white suits, and coughing through a haze of smoke from the now-smoldering remains of the shield generator. The rest was up to Lando and his fighters.

Leia was sitting with her back up against a fallen log, waiting patiently for him to tend to her injury. She had been amazing, staying in the middle of the action even after she'd been hit.

He hadn't been able to help the "I love you" that tumbled out when she'd pulled a blaster on their foes. She'd given him an eloquent smile and quoted him slyly.

"I know."

He'd forgot he said that back at Bespin. And he couldn't help but curse himself for it now. What kind of answer was that?

He was just about done. The enemy was tied up, and he knew from experience the strength of those trapper's nets. But he kept them heavily guarded just in case.

He looked at the sky, wondering when the final blow would hit. Would it be on their side or the Empire's? If Lando wasn't successful, this celebration could be over pretty quick.

The thought made him turn back to Leia and head purposely to her side. She hadn't lost much blood; it didn't look like the wound was troubling her a lot at the moment. Still, he'd have a look just to be sure.

"Is it done?" she asked, already knowing.

"As done as it can be. Now we wait," he said, sinking to the forest floor next to her.

He reached for her bandage, unable to keep from remembering the last time he'd tended such a wound. Hadn't been wrong of him to fight his feelings then. In the last few years, she had not only claimed his heart but become it. If she went, that vital organ would go with her. He didn't think a guy could live without a heart.

It gave a familiar lurch as she spoke:

"Luke is up there."

As if he had forgotten.

"He would have been better off down here," he said, honestly wishing the kid was out of harm's way.

"He had to go…" she said, turning back to him, a new thought forming on her lips—

A sudden roar like a thousand peals of thunder filled the air above them and the little Ewoks started jumping up and down, squealing in joy and triumph. He looked behind him to see a huge cloud of gas and sparks in the sky, and he knew without a doubt their attack had been a success.

It was an awesome sight. He gawked at it for a moment before remembering Leia and the worry she must be feeling.

"I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew." He didn't know if it was true, but he knew that's what she wanted to hear.

She stared straight ahead, seeming to focus on nothing or maybe on that place deep inside her.

"He wasn't. I can feel it," she said wondrously. So, it was true. What Luke had said, what he had feared.

Her face was soft and her eyes misty. He knew that look. With heartbreaking clarity he knew where he had seen it, reflected back into his own eyes before the carbon freezing had begun.

"You love him…" he said.

She looked at him searchingly as if parsing his meaning.

He tried to smile, tried to do anything but let his heart break inside his chest. "Don't you?"

She didn't even hesitate, "Yes."

"Alright," his mouth was moving on its own, following the script he'd set the night before. "I understand. Fine! When he comes back," he looked, down hating to break yet another promise to himself, "I won't get in the way."

He might as well just stop making them anyway. Promises were stupid, fickle things.

She let out a short breath that bordered on impatient—

He would leave her, go to the ends of the galaxy…

"No, it's not like that at all," she said in the sweetest, surest tone—

Anywhere as long as he didn't have to see them…

She leaned forward like a priestess giving a blessing—

It would kill him, but he would do it…

"He's my brother," she said—

He could be strong enough, he could…Wait, this wasn't the script. This was his dramatic moment, and…

She was kissing him on the mouth, bringing him back to life and Endor.

He pulled away, her words finally piercing his farce. Luke was her brother. Her brother! He didn't know how it was possible, figured there was a whole lot more to that story. But he laughed, at himself, at her, at everything and she joined him, obviously in on the joke.

Then he was pulling her to him, sealing their new reality with a kiss of his own. If he had a ring he'd have proposed right then. It would have been the perfect moment, in the afterglow of triumph, in the midst of this celebration. If he'd only…but then he decided to let it go. He'd have his moment. And besides, he had to let go of something, since he wasn't letting go of her after all.

**The End of Volume I**


End file.
